AN: Hi, there! I hope you guys are still enjoying the story. I bring the eighth chapter and I hope it will be enjoyed, too. A lot of people are still concerned about the whole 'a child dies, but no actual child dies' so if you're one of those, leave a short message (review or PM) and I'll reply to tell you what's up with that. Obviously, I'd be giving you a spoiler, so that is why I'm not just writing it down here. I don't want to give away the whole deal, you know? In any case, enjoy the new chapter. Cass.

The Lover That Went Wrong

- Chapter Eight -

Heat surrounded him as the buildings burned, screams filling the air. There used to a time where he marveled at the sight and sound, where he would have laughed and reveled at the panic and chaos surrounding him, but now he felt … nothing. He was merely an observer, watching as people ran for their lives, watching as they cried for their friends and family, as they desperately tried to find refuge somewhere, anywhere, but the streets were burning and they were trapped.

In the distance, Loki could hear an explosion and for the briefest moment he wondered what Amora was doing, though he assumed she was probably just having a bit of fun. He cared very little about what was happening, really, about the people below him, about Amora. The city was crumbling for reasons that were unbeknownst to him, because truly, there was no point. They weren't trying to send a message or show their strength. He and Amora had just come here, starting fires and waiting for people to start screaming. It hadn't taken long at all for panic to spread, and now it was only a matter of time before their heroes would come and save them.

Loki couldn't wait to watch them burn, too. He couldn't wait to see Thor struggle to get control of the situation, to see the Captain be noble and courageous as he would save the people trapped down the street. He wondered if Black Widow and Hawkeye would join in as well, and wondered what Tony would do, but Loki quickly discarded that thought. Tony would burn like the rest of them and he had no intention of stopping it.

Screams sounded directly beneath him and Loki glanced down over the edge of the building, finding a dozen humans trying to escape the inferno that he had created. They looked like ants trapped in their anthill, frantically running around and looking for an exit. He watched – rather disappointed – as they made it safely to an underground subway station before his gaze suddenly turned to sky, movement catching his attention.

His brother was easily recognizable, his red cape giving him away as he flew through the air, and Loki considered shooting a bolt of energy at him, but in the end it would only reveal his location. He wasn't naïve. He knew he could never kill his brother, not with a bolt of energy alone and, truly, he was in no mood for hand-to-hand combat – not that he thought himself strong enough to defeat Thor – so he watched as his brother landed somewhere near the east of the city, a few blocks away from where he stood on top of the National Bank's building.

Sirens came near, fires were extinguished, and while Loki just stood there, observing, Amora was still wrecking her way through the city, making buildings collapse and generally being a bitch. She was good at that. He knew he should join her, knew he should enjoy … this, but he couldn't. The fires, the screams, the chaos, none of it even made his heart race.

With a sigh, he turned away from the edge of the building, preparing to leave since there wasn't really a point of him being there, only to catch sight of a red and golden metal suit passing over his head. His heart skipped a bit, his mouth suddenly turning so incredibly dry, and Loki hated it. He prayed that the smoke had shielded him from Stark's sight, but luck wasn't on his side – it never was lately – and a moment later, Loki watched as Iron Man altered his course and headed back for the roof of the National Bank.

He should leave, he should cast a spell that would transport him miles and miles away from there, but Loki found himself frozen, locked down, and all because it was Tony landing a few feet away from him, his mask falling back. Dark circles around his brown eyes revealed how exhausted the mortal felt, which meant he was weaker than usual, a fact Loki should use as his advantage, yet all he could do was stare at him while it became harder for him to breathe. It was ridiculous and hateful, but still he couldn't bring himself to move, to curse, to fight, to do something, yet the same apparently went for Tony who simply stared back at him, his dark eyes piercing his emerald green eyes.

"If you have something to say, just say it," Loki said after a long and hard silence. He felt relieved to hear his voice cold and distant, because Tony might have a peculiar effect on him, one he just couldn't wrap his head around, but that didn't change the fact that he still hated him, that he blamed him, because was it not all his fault? He would still feel strong and untouchable weren't it for that man, his weakness.

Tony blinked, confusion and concern filling his eyes, and Loki hated how effortlessly he could read that man, how well he'd come to know him, or perhaps Tony had just become easy. The thought made Loki smile sharply, the idea of Tony ruined pleasing him, though that wasn't entirely true. A man was never completely ruined if he still had hope to cling to, and Tony clearly hung onto that sentiment like he hung onto dear life itself.

"Come home," He said, brown eyes never leaving him, never losing their strength that somehow seemed to return to him.

Loki laughed, the sound foreign to his own ears. "Home?" He heard himself ask. "You mean your mansion? Your tower? Oh, Stark, let me tell you that those places have never been my home, nor will they ever be."

"You used to be a better liar," Tony simply replied. He stepped forward as Loki growled, his fingers itching to crush the mortal's fragile skull, because he was insufferable and stubborn and dangerous – his weakness. "So I'll ask again," He continued and Loki couldn't believe he had the nerve to step out of his suit, to consider him harmless. "Come home with me."

Slowly, Loki shook his head, a small voice in the back of his head screaming at him to reach out, to take hold of Tony's hand, to once again allow himself to feel something other than hatred and anger and suffering, but he refused. For the first time in years, he had allowed himself to feel happiness and hope again, only to have it crushed, so what was the point exactly? What was the point of loving someone when there lay nothing but pain down the line?

"I won't give up on you," Tony said and Loki believed him. He could see the determination in his dark brown eyes and he knew he needed to destroy that. He needed to destroy him. "And you know how infuriatingly stubborn I am," Tony continued softly as he reached out for him, the tips of his fingers brushing the side of his face and Loki couldn't bring himself to pull away. It would be the easy solution, but not a permanent one. "You love me, I know you do, so I won't give up."

"You're very sure of yourself," Loki said. He blinked, hoping to hide everything that threatened to break free, because by the gods, he loved that man, but he refused to give in, refused to allow himself to grow weak once more. It was better to feel nothing at all.

"Always," Tony said, a faint smile curving the edges of his lips upward, his features softening with hope and relief. He stepped forward, closing the distance between them, his lips instantly finding his, kissing him like he'd kissed him a hundred times before, only softer this time, more desperate.

Loki's eyes fluttered shut, reveling at all that was Tony, allowing himself this short moment of peace and silence. He could feel Tony relax, could feel the tension slip away from him, and Loki knew the moment was near. One way or another, he would destroy everything.

"Will you come home with me?" Tony asked again, his voice hardly above a whisper. His hands came to rest to the sides of his neck and Loki stared into his brown eyes, wanting to remember them properly.

One flick of his wrist later, just one quick movement, and he watched as those dark, kind eyes widened suddenly, shock and dread filling them. Tony's lips parted slightly, but no sound came from him,. He couldn't catch his breath.

Loki pulled himself away from Tony and glanced down at the dagger he'd planted deep inside of his chest, just below the vibrant blue arc reactor. He felt sick and nauseous when he realized Tony's still warm blood stained his hands, but he could push past it.

Tony stumbled back, fingers folding around the hilt of the dagger, but he didn't pull it out. He was smarter than that. He didn't want to risk bleeding to death after all, though his fate was already sealed.

"Loki?" He gasped, nothing but disbelief in his gaze as he stared at the god of mischief.

"Have I broken you now?" Loki asked and he felt horrified to hear his own voice so … dead. This was what he wanted and needed, what he'd always been good at.

Tony didn't reply – couldn't. His legs gave out beneath him and he fell to the ground, his eyes squeezed shut, his body going into shock. With every ragged breath he managed to take, Loki could hear the gurgling of his blood that was slowly filling his right lung, but he didn't rush to help him, didn't regret what he'd done.

He was free of the mortal that had somehow managed to tie him down, and now Tony would finally be free of him.

With that thought in mind, Loki cast a spell and disappeared.

-/-

There was a lot of wind. Strangely enough, that was all Tony could focus on – that and the searing pain in his chest, which wasn't surprising considering there was a fucking knife lodged between two ribs, puncturing a lung, making it damn hard for him to breathe. The golden handle sticking from his chest was laced with emerald green stones and of course Loki would have such a flamboyant dagger, a thought that almost made Tony laugh, but then he remembered that this was Loki's weapon and that it was slowly killing him. Perhaps he just shouldn't have been stupid enough to think he could change the god of mischief, that he could help him, not after everything they had gone through. He'd been a fucking idiot to believe that there was still hope, but he wouldn't make that mistake again.

The wind grew stronger and noise overwhelmed Tony who finally turned his unfocused gaze upward. Something was approaching, but it took Tony a moment to realize he was seeing a SHIELD helicopter landing on the other side of the roof. He should feel relieved that he'd been found so quickly since that made his chances of surviving this mess grow exponentially, but instead he groaned and closed his eyes, knowing that he would never hear the end of it.

Footsteps approached, quick and heavy, and Tony didn't need to open his eyes to know that it was the Captain coming his way. He could practically hear the STAR SPRANGLED BANNER play in the distance!

"Stark?" Yep, definitely the Captain. Leave it to him to sound more annoyed than worried while there was currently a gaping hole in his chest – or there would be once they removed the knife.

Begrudgingly, Tony opened his eyes to find Steve hovering over him, his usually bright blue eyes a shade too dark, his irritation so very clearly written all over his face even though half of it was concealed by that ridiculous mask of his.

"Nice of you … to join me," He managed to say and he'd wanted to sound amused and uncaring, but being on the brink of unconsciousness really wasn't helping – that and the fact that he got a few pecks of blood on his lower lip as he spoke. Breathing was definitely becoming harder, too.

"Dammit, Stark, what did you do?" Steve demanded angrily. Fingers touched the skin around the dagger, making Tony hiss in pain, but that didn't stop him. Tony suspected Steve was secretly happy he was in pain, because that might make him realize the gravity of the situation – not that he needed a reminder. Pushing aside the fabric of Tony's black and blood-stained shirt, Steve carefully examined the wound without removing the knife. "Why the hell did you step out of your suit?"

"Oh, sue me," Tony snapped, and he was going to feel eternally grateful that he managed to get his anger across in that moment. Grabbing hold of Steve's wrist, though his grip was feeble, he forced his hand away. "Just get me … to that fucking helicopter."

Sighing with annoyance, exasperation, irritation, and every other adjective that followed in line with his current mood, Steve rose to his feet and stepped back, allowing the other SHIELD agents to pick Tony up – who tried his damn best not to make a sound as the movement almost tore him apart – and placed him on a stretcher. By the time they got to the helicopter – the noise it produced physically hurting Tony's ears – his vision was growing darker and Tony knew he only had a few more seconds before he'd fall unconscious.

"Cap?" He muttered. His eyes were already closed, but he could tell Steve came to sit next to him, if just by the rusting of his clothes or the way he breathed – which reminded Tony of the fact that he spent way too much time with him and the other Avengers. "Where's he?"

"Gone," Steve told him, "Loki left with Amora a few minutes ago. We couldn't capture them."

"Well fuck."

There was so much more he wanted to say. He wanted to call Amora a bitch and he wanted to curse Loki to hell. He wanted to ask if the city was safe and how many casualties had fallen. He wanted to know where the rest of their team was, but he couldn't anymore.

Darkness pulled him under and for the briefest moment, he wondered if he'd ever wake.

-/-

Even though his skin was clean and awfully pale, it still felt dirty and stained. Loki couldn't stop staring at his hand, couldn't forget the weight of the dagger, nor the way it felt to pierce Tony's chest. Tony's shocked, horrified, brown eyes were still staring at him whenever he closed his eyes and Loki cursed himself for it. He'd wanted to kill him, wanted to erase him from his life, but apparently that wasn't as easy as he'd thought. Being around Amora definitely helped since it reminded him of a life he'd lived before, a live he wanted to live, but Tony had influenced him, changed him, made him weaker.

"Come back to bed."

Loki turned to look over his shoulder, finding Amora lying on her stomach, arms underneath her pillow, a thin, white sheet covering absolutely nothing of her curvy and beautiful body. Her long blond hair lay loosely around her shoulders and Loki found himself wanting to be with her. She helped him be who he was supposed to be – strong, uncaring, mischievous, and angry.

Spinning around, he let the silk robe fall away from his body and slipped back into bed.

Amora moved to where she was leaning on her elbows, the edges of her full red lips curving upward into a smile. "Do you think you killed him?" She asked, her vibrant green eyes revealing nothing but excitement and delight.

"Let's hope I did," Loki replied as he reached out, fingers trailing through Amora's long blond hair, "Our lives would be that much easier."

"Our lives will be easier when they are all dead," Amora said with a harsh and cruel tone. Even her gaze darkened and Loki chuckled at the sight, knowing how easily she could get miffed. She was an impatient woman and that was often her undoing, but this time would be different. They were together again, scheming and plotting, though Loki knew they hardly wanted the same thing. She wanted power and dominion over this world and he just wanted to … forget. He had a feeling her goal was easier achieved than his.

"Can we not think of my brother and his puppets?" He asked while he let his fingers ghost over her bare shoulder. She shuddered beneath his touch, her smile turning into a pleased smirk. She moved to sit on her knees, only to throw a leg over his hips, effectively straddling him, and Loki smiled at her with his lips tightly pressed together.

"Does the idea of the great Iron Man dead excite you as much as it excites me?" She asked, ignoring Loki's request. "Do tell me again of how utterly shocked he was when you stabbed him." Her hands came to rest to the side of his face, the tips of her fingers playing with his raven hair.

Loki cocked his head to the side, eyes never leaving Amora. "What does it matter how shocked he was?" He asked after a short silence, a silence that only seemed to entertain Amora which in turn aggravated Loki. "I stabbed him and I left him to die, that is all that matters."

"You should have slit his throat," Amora said angrily. She leaned closer until her lips brushed against Loki's, her grip on his hair tightening. "You should have made sure he was dead, you had the chance, or perhaps I should start to think you didn't want him dead after all."

Loki said nothing as he stared at her, unafraid to meet her gaze, as if challenging her to keep speaking, to keep antagonizing him, because that was exactly what she was doing. Her eyes softened at Loki's behavior and she turned more amused than anything else as she pressed a quick kiss to his lips.

"Did he break your heart?" She asked softly.

A sudden tightness moved around his chest and Loki's hands latched around Amora's wrists. "You should stop talking if you value your life," He said, eyes wide with rage. It would take him less than a second to conjure a knife to his hand – one that would look exactly like the one he'd used to stab Tony – and he wouldn't hesitate to stab her and this time, he would aim straight for the heart.

"Will you ever tell me what happened to you?" She asked, seemingly oblivious to Loki's growing hostility.

"Why do you care?" Loki hissed.

"Why do you?" Amora shot right back and Loki had no answer, which appalled him more than anything else. Her hands traveled down his chest, the tips of her fingers brushing over his skin ever so lightly. "Forget him, Loki," She whispered, all smirks and charms having fallen away from her, "I can give you what you want, what you need." Her fingers curled around his length, her touch icy, making Loki tense ever so slightly. "Just tell me what you need."

Growling, he rolled them over, switching their positions, pushing Amora into the mattress below, his fingers pressing bruises into her wrists as he pinned them above her head.

"What I need–" He began, his voice sharp and cold and frustrated as he nudged a knee between her legs while Amora was grinning up at him. "–is for you to shut up."

Leaning down, he kissed her. She shivered beneath his touch and smiled at the feeling of his tongue sweeping over the seam of her lips. The moan she produced was low and intimate, and she didn't speak another word that evening. Loki made sure of that.

-/-

"What are you doing?"

Tony swirled around, eyes having gone wide, knowing there was a good chance he looked like a five-year-old who had been caught with his hand in the cookie-jar, but then the pain crashed into his body since he had moved too quickly and for a moment Tony feared he had ruptured his stitches. Wincing, he finished pulling his shirt over his head before checking, but thank God he wasn't bleeding and the stitches were just fine.

"I'm not gonna spend weeks in a hospital bed," He said, sitting down on the edge of the bed to pull on his shoes – which hurt, too, but he pushed past the pain. "I'm definitely not gonna stay in a SHIELD hospital, because have you seen the nurses? Eight percent is male, so no thank you."

Thor raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms before his chest. Tony could tell he was ready to speak his mind, to tell him to get back into bed or something – or perhaps not since this was Thor and Thor was unpredictable. "What does it matter what the sex of the nurses is?"

Yep, definitely unpredictable. Rolling his eyes, making sure Thor saw that, Tony focused on his shoes again, hating that it took him ages to pull them on and tie his laces. "You're not gonna rat on me, are you?" He asked without looking up at the god of thunder. "Because then I have no chance of getting out of here and I won't forgive you."

"I shall only advice you to reconsider your plan then," Thor replied in his usual deep, regal voice, "You were stabbed only nine days ago, were unconscious for three of them. Leaving the care of the doctors and nurses could be considered a bad idea."

"Noted," Tony said happily. He straightened his back and grinned at Thor who definitely didn't look very amused. "If it makes you feel any better, I plan to spend the next three weeks in my basement, not doing anything physically demanding."

"It does not make me feel better at all," Thor said.

"I appreciate your concern, buddy, I really do," Tony started, looking at Thor, suddenly wondering why he was there, but somehow thinking he didn't want to find out, "But I'll be fine. I just need to get the god-stunner working, do a few tests, and then our problems will be fixed. You guys can capture Amora and Loki, and you can ship their asses off to Asgard's most secure prison-cell."

Thor stared at him and honestly, Tony didn't know what he'd said to elicit such a reaction, but he figured it had something to do with Loki. It always had something to do with him and that angered him more than he thought possible. His life had been easy until Loki had showed up. Cities hadn't constantly been under attack and his life hadn't been in constant danger, although that last thought wasn't true. He had always been at the center of threats, but he had never thought things would turn so personal between him and Loki. He'd never thought they would want each other dead.

"What?" He snapped when the silence continued and Thor kept still staring at him as if he could read every thought that crossed his mind, or maybe he was just being that obvious. In any case, he would like Thor to stop staring at him and to stop making him feel so uncomfortable in his own damn skin.

"Is that what you want?" Thor asked, his bright blue eyes piercing Tony's dark brown ones and truly, Tony preferred to be kidnapped and put in a cave again than have this conversation with Thor – who he'd once thought would end up as his brother-in-law, but look how things worked out! "Do you want Loki arrested and returned to Asgard?"

"Honestly, I don't care what happens to him," Tony snapped angrily, his chest heaving suddenly even though breathing still fucking hurt and he knew he should calm down, but Thor wasn't exactly making things easy, certainly not with the way he was looking almost incredulously at him. "He can fall off a building and meet his end on the pavement for all I care, though I'd prefer if it ended painful and bloody, since that's how he wanted me to meet my end apparently."

"That's a colorful picture," Thor said, and it almost had Tony bursting with laughter weren't it for the fact that he felt pissed off and the edges of his vision were darkening and great, now he had to sit down for a moment. Thor stepped forward, as if coming to his aid, but one nasty glare in his direction had him coming to a halt. "You should stay in bed for a few more days, my friend."

Tony inhaled deeply, calming himself enough for the dark spots to disappear. "I mean it, Thor," He said eventually, watching Thor frown at his words, though he remained quiet and Tony didn't understand how Thor could not get him, how he could not understand what he was saying. "I'm done with him," He clarified, "I'm done with your brother."

Thor said nothing to that.

Rising to his feet, Tony grabbed his jacket and carefully shrugged it on, wincing at the movement and hating his weak and frail mortal form as Loki would most likely put it, before focusing on his friend again who looked somewhere between a kicked puppy and an overly protective big brother, but Tony couldn't bring himself to care.

"He needs you."

Tony snorted and shook his head. "He only needs one thing," He found himself saying, shocked to hear his own voice detached and cold, which hadn't been his intention, but that was the effect Loki had on him at the moment and Tony didn't know whether that fact made him relieved or sad, "Power, that's all he ever needed, and apparently Amora will help him get that, so good luck to him."

Thor looked wounded.

"Oh, don't give me that look."

"You're angry–"

"Damn right I'm angry!" Tony instantly regretted shouting out those words because not only did his chest feel like it was on fire, like Loki had just stabbed him a second time, but he had given into the anger he'd been trying to bottle up and the look on Thor's face wasn't helping either. "I tried, what more do you want of me?" He asked dejectedly.

Again, Thor stayed silent, and Tony cursed him for it.

"I'm not as strong as you are," Tony said, deflating some and fuck, Thor was a sneaky bastard. He knew all the ways to get him to spill. "I can't lose Loki again and again. I won't put myself through that torture. I tried, I tried damn hard and I got stabbed in the chest for it. So good luck with him, Thor, and I really hope you capture him alive and I hope that blonde bitch dies, but I won't help. You're on your own now."

"I understand," Thor said, inclining his head.

"Of course you do," Tony muttered, "Now if you'll excuse me, I'd like to sneak out of here before the Captain or worse, Fury enters, because then I'll be cuffed to the bed."

Tony watched as Thor stepped aside to let him pass, but his silence unnerved him. He hated it when Thor spoke, every word coming from his mouth confronting him with a truth he rather ignored, and he definitely hated his silence since that just made him feel horrible about himself.

Sighing, he walked forward, only to come to a halt right beside him, glancing up at him with nothing but true regret in his brown eyes. "I'm sorry," He said, "Good luck."

"Thank you," Was all Thor managed to say and perhaps he wanted to say more, Tony truly didn't know, but he didn't want to find out either. He exited the SHIELD-hospital-room, feeling very much like a coward, but then again, that wasn't anything new. He could live with that, just as long as there was a drink waiting for him at home.

TBC …

AN: I know, everything seems to be shot to hell, but do know that I'm not a sadist (okay, I kinda am), but I wouldn't end a story with everyone as a heap of misery. So resolutions are coming, just bear with me, please! Thanks for reading!