Firstly, thank you all so SO much for reading, and for all your lovely reviews so far and for story alerting/favouriting, it seriously makes my day! (^.^)
This chapter is full of confused Tony, as he begins to realise that he and Loki might share a few choice personality traits…and I actually have a plan sketched out for the next few chapters now, so there will be some more developments on the way and I promise we will get out of this scene very soon! Also, extra characters might very soon be making an appearance. OOO..
Hope you enjoy!
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Chapter 4. Seeing and believing.
Tony Stark was, once again, feeling ever so slightly more unnerved than he was entirely comfortable with. Loki had just spat out his longest stream of words so far, and by all means he was now beyond fury. Standing opposite Tony - towering over him to be more accurate; Tony was sorely reminded of how intimidated he felt whenever Thor was beside him – Loki seemed tense, livid and ready to snap both in his manner and his voice. Tony still hadn't figured out how to get the suit to him without having to speak to JARVIS, and thus alert Loki to what he was doing – and, fabulous as his shiny toy was, it wasn't half as fast as an extremely angry Asgardian god. Yet.
If only he could figure out how to do that whole mind control thing too, he thought grimly; he could speak to JARVIS in silence and ask him to help figure out what the fuck to do next. If he cared to admit it to himself, he had been overly cocky about his temerity; he hadn't truly allowed himself to believe that Loki would be an even and – dare he think it? – superior match for him. After all, who the hell else was?
Then again, Loki is the God of fucking Mischief. Yep, Tony really had overshot his mark this time. It made him feel slightly sick to think it, to think he was being beaten at his own game. By Loki of all people.
But that's it, isn't it, needled a part of his brain that was rarely used anymore, a part that had become dusty and almost forgotten. Loki isn't 'all people'. Loki is the one person – well, god – that can beat you at your game, because he's played it before. He's been through imaginable horrors too, he's had doubts about his worth his whole life, he's had to build walls, only to have them knocked down by the person he was trying so hard to impress. Impress, and yet keep out. Loki's background…it really isn't that different to your own. Worse, even, because Loki's been dealing with it for centuries. If anyone else knows what it's like to have had a shit tonne of fuck ups in your life, it's Loki. He's hurting, just like you were. He hasn't mended himself yet. He might not even have finished breaking himself. He's been desperate too. And he's still desperate now.
Fuck, what this compassion for Loki? Was Tony really sitting here being all introspective and sympathetic towards the guy from another world who was at this current moment using Tony as a temporary respite from destroying this world? Loki might not have been able to use his full powers of mind control on Tony's brain, but for the love of heaven, Tony decided, he'd certainly fucked something up in there. He had to have. Didn't he? Because if all these strange thoughts and feelings weren't somehow Loki's doing, if Loki hadn't manipulated him in some way, then that meant Tony was getting dangerously close to understanding Loki, and who knew what bag of deranged cats that appalling acknowledgment would set free. He was already uncomfortably aware of the creeping fascination with Loki lurking somewhere in his mind, making funny little skittering things dance all the way down his chest into his stomach, ever since he cottoned on to the fact that looking at Loki was akin to staring into a metaphorical fucking mirror.
With a forced and probably visible effort, Tony ripped himself away from the edge of this deep and terrifying hole that threatened to consume his entire ability to think, let alone speak – Jesus, he'd end up as insane as Loki if he carried on down there – and tried to fix a smile on his face, his heart beating at a thousand miles per hour and his forehead prickling with a nervous sweat.
OK, that was it. He'd gone insane. Since when was TONY FUCKING STARK ever nervous of anything?
Somehow, perceiving that he probably wasn't going to get an answer out of his adversary, Loki moved forward once again, thoughts spinning and crashing around his own head – himself, Jotunheim, Thor, Odin, his father, Thor's coronation, the Bifrost breaking into a billion pieces, NO, falling, falling, and pain, so much pain, burning and coursing through his veins, white hot, terror all around him, no escape – and he bent his torso towards Tony, causing Tony to have to lean back; exposing his chest.
''I think'' Loki whispered, in the most alarmingly soft tone Tony had ever heard in his life, ''I have had enough of your game. Time is up, Tony Stark. I will know that which I seek, and I will claim my knowledge. You have had ample chance to tell me, and I tire of sparring with your inferior, disgusting mortal tongue''.
At each word Loki had bent down nearer and nearer to Tony, who was executing a kind of mad sitting down scramble in his stool in an attempt to pull away from Loki without toppling over, a sight that would have been almost comical were it not for the threat of immense, palpable danger making the very air around them shiver. As Loki finished speaking, his voice having dropped to a barely discernible whisper, he raised his arm in a flash and pressed his palm upon Tony's chest, before the seated man could even contemplate moving or blocking or fighting.
Tony froze, and not just because Loki's hand was practically radiating permafrost. Tony froze with fear, his heart pounding so hard he was surprised it didn't burst right of his chest right there and then and save Loki a job. Nobody touched his arc reactor. Nobody. Apart from of course himself, and more recently, Pepper. Tony was fully and blindingly aware that inside his genius lay vulnerability, inside his technique lay chance, and inside his intelligence lay flaws. He knew the arc reactor would keep him alive, he knew he had nothing to fear from it.
But that was if it was left alone.
For he knew that the arc reactor could also be his death, killer and weapon all at once. Tony was under no illusion that if anything ever happened that compromised the reactor, he had a limited – very limited – amount of time to get to, locate, and install his back up. A plan of action that Tony knew was utterly and laughably useless in this particular situation. He had no idea what Loki was about to do, but he would bet his whole damn fortune on it not ending well for him. Loki not knowing what the reactor was or did wasn't a comfort; if anything, it constituted more of threat – any 'accidents' would be sure to favour Loki, and not himself.
Loki was grabbing his chest tighter, the tips of his fingers practically burning a hole through Tony's skin, and from the look of intense concentration in his face and the faint glow around his hand that was clearly not coming from the light of the reactor, Tony guessed he was using magic, assumedly a different sort to the kind that powered the sceptre. The reactor seemed to be humming a tad more noticeably than usual, but apart from this -
nothing.
Nothing was exploding out of his chest; nothing was whining to a halt, no shards of metal were burrowing deep into his heart. Tony dared let himself hope that somehow, something about him was recalcitrant to Loki's powers. Although of course, this hardly offered Tony any comfort, as Loki had power beyond his magic. He was imbibed with super human strength, even if he was a weakling compared to Thor, and did not seem to get injured in the same way humans did. Loki could use brute strength to pull the reactor out of Tony's body, Tony's life following not far behind it. All Tony had to cling to was the hope that this thought stayed as far away from Loki as it was possible to get.
A low, almost inhumane hissing noise seemed to escape from Loki's lips and his hand released some of the pressure, though still resting with unmistakeable strength and authority over the arc reactor. The faint strands of greeny blue mist that had been rippling down Loki's arm and across Tony's torso had disappeared and Loki was staring into Tony's eyes with a new expression, one of anger and frustration, yes, but coupled with curiosity, and was that - admiration? And the slightest, tiniest, most miniscule flicker of fear?
''One heart not enough for you, Man of Iron?'' Loki tried to smirk, but his voice was betrayed by the same emotions mirrored in his eyes. ''This – this arc reactor – it is your source of life, yes? It controls your body. It gives off a power that is alien to me, and which appears to counteract the sources of my magic. I wonder, for what possible reason do you need this? I sense no other like it, I sense no others that require it. It is unique. Are you really that fond of your costume, Man of Iron, that you would begin to transform yourself into a breathing version of it? Saving time on getting dressed are we?''
Loki's abrupt return to the world of snarky derision that seemed to be his preferred habitat was ruined somewhat by the discomfort sneaking through his tone, and the fact that Tony too busy gaping, once again, at finding himself still alive, to throw back a witty retort.
''Come, Man of Iron. I have seen your secret. I have felt it. It only remains for me to discover how you made it, and for what purpose. A matter which I can and will solve. And I can offer you the easy way, or the hard way. The easy way, it gets to remain inside your chest. The hard way, it comes with me. And as I'm not currently advertising for an accomplice, it comes with me, alone''.
Ah. So Loki had figured out that if the arc reactor was removed, Tony was only as good as his unmanned suit, hanging limp, still and silent, devoid of any source of life.
Ha, now that was good, he thought to himself. He was quite proud of that metaphor. Loki might be a sarky bastard, but the longer Tony was spending in his company, the more he was beginning to identify with the way his mind works. Even if he hated to think so, even if he hated that Loki looked very much like he might be winning. As Tony was beginning to realise, it seemed like you couldn't trick a trickster. But hadn't he also just thought that he and Loki were the same? No, similar. Vaguely similar at best. They had minor similarities.
Fuck. He was getting worryingly close to 'there' again.
And he didn't want to go 'there', wherever there was. He'd had enough shit, he didn't want to attack himself by wondering what it meant if he shared several personality traits with a man as damaged, depraved and corrupt as Loki. Corruption and depravity was what got him into this whole mess to begin with, two decades ago.
''You know, I don't know if you've heard, but I'm pretty much a big deal.'' Tony had found his voice again. ''Genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist, you got that spot on''. He nodded his head towards Loki, feigning mock gratitude. ''And I don't really fancy my chances living up to my reputation with a ragged great hole in my chest, scaring away the fans…so…it wouldn't be the first time someone's used 'easy' and 'Tony Stark' in the same sentence''. He grinned laviaciously at Loki, having seemingly slipped just as easily as the god back into the cool, slick manner for which he was most renowned.
''Wise choice, Stark'', Loki said, the soft voice back, yet without the menacing undertone of before. He looked positively satisfied, smile playing at his lips and something very close to relief reflected in his expression. Tony was just beginning to wonder how he could stall Loki further – he had no intention of actually playing nicely – when the window behind Loki exploded into thousands of glittering pieces, shooting through the air in reaction to their sudden disturbance, and something large, green and surging at 500 miles an hour burst into the penthouse at full throttle, roaring with indescribable rage at a decibel level that exceeded several large aircrafts taking off simultaneously.
As if a Loki hadn't been enough, Tony now had a Hulk in his living room.