A/N: Oh my GOD have the last few days been stressful with this story. Seriously, I've copied and pasted bits around so much trying out different orders and scenes and plot paths, and it's had a paddy at every single one. I'm still not 100% happy with the way it's going, but hopefully this and the next chapter will 'flow' and make sense in context of everything else...it's really hard getting into the nitty gritty of Tony and Loki actually talking and getting on 'friendly' terms, every draft I've done seems either too rushed or too drawn out! So bear in mind I mind I might change up the structure on this fic on doc editor over the next few days, like mash some past chapters together or something, because I need to start reigning it in or it's going to drown me! Also, I promise within the next update or two we will have arrived at 'recovery Loki'. Who is going to be all sardonic and sarcastic and wonderful and yeah. MY WORDS JUST DON'T CURRENTLY SEEM TO WANT ME TO GET THERE.
Also sorry for that essay, and THANK YOU for reading and reviewing and alerting everyone, again and again, you make all the frustration worth it!
Disclaimer: The characters are Marvels and Marvels alone. Sadly. The title is based on the Slipknot song because I love it and it gives accurate feels. Honest.
Chapter 12. Dead Memories.
Tony was greeted upon his arrival upstairs with nearly 7 feet of angry Norse god, hammer crackling in his hand, hair wild, cloak billowing, pounding loudly on the door of the room that housed his younger sibling. Said younger sibling was clearly equally as angry, going by the way the doorframe was lit by an evil shade of green light and seemed utterly impervious to Thor's attempts to open it, and by the cacophony of enraged noises coming from inside the room.
''LOKI!'' Thor was bellowing, and by rights he was not called the god of thunder for nothing. His voice seemed to rumble through the air, battering the door as efficiently as its owners fists were doing. ''LOKI OPEN THIS DOOR! THIS IS MADNESS, BROTHER! You will talk to me, you will tell me what has happened to you! We are sent here to sort this out, and therefore that we shall, you must OPEN THIS DOOR!''
''I AM NOT YOUR BROTHER!'' Loki was screeching, and Tony wasn't sure, but it sounded a hell of a lot like the younger god was crying. Oh, fuck. It seemed Loki's emotional state was as unstable as his mental one; gone was the semi-contrite and beaten man Tony had briefly spoke with in the penthouse, Loki was clearly once again spitting mad and at the top of his tree. ''Go AWAY, Thor, I have nothing to say to you! NOTHING!''
Thor looked half mad himself and also on the verge of tears, the pure desperation with which he was trying to get to Loki etched across his face.
''Loki we must talk! Everything is over, it is OK! I need to speak with you brother, we can sort out this mess!''
''I-SAID-I-AM-NOT-YOUR-BROTHER!'' Loki's scream had gone up several octaves, and the door appeared to actually shudder with rage, the green light becoming piercingly bright.
'Hey – hey Thor! Loki! STOP!'' Tony shouted, walking briskly down the hallway and mentally calculating the possible cost of a complete renovation job to the entire upper floor, ''GUYS! Calm down…this place is top notch you know, I'm having no…no fucking thunderstorms or magic tantrums in my house. Got that?''
Thor turned away from the door, hammer slightly raised, before seeing Tony and taking stock of himself, suddenly crumpling to the floor in defeat.
''Man of iron…you must forgive me, I want only to speak with my brother…he said not two words to me on the journey over here, and he is refusing to allow me to even see him. I will not hurt him, I am not looking to punish him – I only wish to reassure him everything is over, and ask him why this happened – I want to know how I wronged him, what happened to him, I wish him to know he is safe, and I love him- ''
Tony could hear Loki's snorts of derision over Thor's pleas, and something that sounded suspiciously like barely concealed sobs.
''Well, yeah, fair enough big fella, but I don't think Loki's quite ready for the whole kiss and make up scene yet. And I'd prefer it if the two of you didn't decimate my house while you try to persuade him otherwise''. Tony had reached Loki's room, and was standing over Thor, looking warily at the obvious magical seal around the door which reminded him that, mentally fragile as Loki was, he was still dangerously powerful and by no means 'safe'.
Thor put his head in his hands, letting Mjolnir fall on the floor beside him. Tony winced at the thud that seemed to reverberate through the very foundations of the house. ''Son of Stark…you understand my brother, do you not? You must help him…you promised to help him…he is still there, somewhere, he is the brother I knew and loved, and you must find him again…I implore you, friend…please help him. Help us''.
Thor's gigantic hand had come to rest on Tony's lower arm, and he was staring up at him, beseeching, begging. Tony felt uncomfortable; this was a family thing, and boy was he was famously shit at those, but he'd got himself involved now and he didn't quite know how to handle it. What he saw in Loki was years upon years of anguish and hatred and confusion, and he didn't know how much of that Thor understood, how much Thor was responsible for, whether Loki could ever truly recover, whether Loki would or could ever show remorse. Thor had obviously forgiven Loki, but had Tony? Did understanding Loki and feeling an obligation to help him mean he'd also written off Loki's crimes? Did an explanation correlate to an excuse? Did it matter? Did he genuinely believe he could make a difference here?
Tony had so many mixed emotions about the whole situation that he hadn't worked out many answers for himself yet; whenever he tried his brain either shut down in shock at the colossal gravity and painful familiarity of the matter he was forcing it to think about, or he reverted to 'stereotypical Tony Stark', making quips and jokes and innuendos left right and centre, because then he could kid himself all this was just another part of his life, just another thing on his to do list –far from normal, but since when had he had a normal life anyway?
''Thor, I'm going to do my best buddy, but this is all pretty weird for me as well you know. I didn't exactly anticipate having two new housemates, one of whom I seemingly have to act as psychiatrist for, and consequently I've got no real plan in mind…besides, Loki doesn't exactly seem all that talkative to begin with, and I get the feeling he's going to be even less so with you around. He's angry, he's confused, he's upset, and he isn't just going to wake up one morning and start apologizing to everyone and baking them cakes. Banging on his door and telling him you love him isn't going to help until he believes it, and no offence mate, but it sounds like you're a couple of centuries late with that calling card anyway. Horse, stable, bolted and all that. The best thing you can do now is go back to your own room, make yourself comfortable and leave Loki alone for a bit. Oh, and change out of that armour, if you will, it's embarrassingly intimidating in a domestic setting and it really clashes with the furniture''.
Thor looked utterly nonplussed at this, no doubt furiously trying to work out what horse and what stable Tony had being referring to; as well as contemplating what his host had meant when he said to change. Thor hadn't brought any clothes with him, he had been sent to join a battle, not start renting a room, and he wasn't aware of what constituted acceptable 'human attire' anyway.
''Err..'' he began, looking down at himself. ''If my garments displease you…I can…'' Thor began tugging at his mantle, looking to at least remove the 'drapes' as Tony had once called them, but Tony stopped him.
''No, everything. You won't be needing armour inside, and hey, anyone ever tell you it was rude to upstage the host? Besides it's over 78 degrees, you must be dying in there. I'll try and find you some sweatpants or something for now, and we'll sort you out with a new wardrobe tomorrow, I'll get JARVIS on it. Now go back to your room, shower or something – cause no offence, but you stink, sweat and blood are kind of overpowering the sweet sea air in here – and I'll bring some stuff through for you in a bit''.
Thor looked at Loki's door, then back at Tony, opening his mouth as if to protest, before closing it and slowly getting to his feet. Clapping Tony on the shoulder so hard the smaller man almost collapsed into the carpet, he nodded gravely and sighed. ''You are right, man of iron. I thank you for your hospitality. I will leave my brother in your capable hands and take a bath. I trust you mean well, friend''.
Tony breathed a sigh of relief. His home would live to stand another day, at least. However, he had a feeling Thor was going to be much easier to deal with than Loki, and getting the older Asgardian to shower and spend some time in his own company for a bit was laughably easy compared to convincing Loki to forget centuries of bullying and feeling unloved in order to recast him as some sort of reformed being.
Turning back around and glancing at Loki's door, Tony could feel heat coming off it, heat that practically smelt of anger and magic and DO NOT COME NEAR ME. He briefly considered knocking, calling out, or even just trying the handle, but after a second's hesitation and a mental tally of the amount of dangerous, suicidal and completely ridiculous situations he'd got himself into in the past fortnight alone, he sighed and retreated back down the corridor, headed towards the kitchen and a second liquid aperitif. He'd leave Loki to stew until tomorrow, he simply hadn't the energy or the Dutch courage to wade into what was essentially an especially bad case of sibling rivalry. He couldn't always live life in the fast lane.
Smiling wryly to himself as Pepper's approving face swam into his head; he wondered what the fuck was happening to Tony Stark. He must be going soft.
XXXXX
The next day proved Tony's decision had been a good one, as when he checked on Loki's door the green light had gone and nothing immediately appeared singed or cracked or destroyed. Thor had done as Tony asked and remained in his own room, seemingly also without causing any residual damage, although from the state of his en-suite the shower had clearly taken a bit of getting used to. Tony hadn't dared go into Loki's room, but made sure the god had food provided at lunch and dinner, and he'd told JARVIS to alert him to anything that could require his immediate attention. He had no idea how to approach this whole thing with Loki, and until he did, he was quite happy for the Asgardian to stay holed up in his room, doing…whatever he was doing in there. Sleeping probably. Tony guessed waking up from some sort of mind control induced coma was similar to coming round after a particularly heavy alcoholic bender; you just had to remain horizontal till everything stopped being fuzzy.
This status quo carried on over the next few days, with Tony knowing he should at least try to attempt to talk to Loki, but at the same time submitting to his time old solution for dealing with things that were uncomfortable or especially difficult – shutting himself up in his workshop and tinkering about with his suits and his gadgets and his appliances, inventing new things and blowing existing ones up (only occasionally on purpose). Between Loki's existence upstairs, Loki's ccomplete and utter avoidance of Thor, Thor's resultant moping, and Tony finding himself actually eating regular meals (Thor liked to, and he quickly learnt that Thor in a kitchen was not something to leave unsupervised), Tony found himself living in what could only be described as The Oddest Fucking Version Of Reality He'd Ever Come Across. And he'd come across some pretty weird shit.
To his surprise however, Tony found tolerating Loki easier than putting up with Thor; the big guy simply had no idea how to engage himself with the 'mortal realm' as it were, and was a walking disaster from morning till night. The morning after they moved in Thor had taken it upon himself to make 'a light snack' to break his fast, which resulted in JARVIS ordering a new oven to be fitted and Tony spending the first few hours of his day repainting the kitchen ceiling.
The day after that, Thor had freaked out at hearing JARVIS's disembodied voice and punched a hole through Tony's living room wall, convinced he was being spied on by a would be assassin.
The same afternoon had seen the Asgardian drinking 2 litres of coke in about 3 seconds flat and experiencing his very first attack of hiccups, an occurrence which made Tony repeatedly thank whatever higher power it was that had given him the insight to install a rolling video camera throughout the house. Six minutes and 18 seconds of pure comedy gold were immediately copied to Tony's personal server, and had already hit the double figures in terms of times viewed. With and without sound.
Thor's human clothes took away most of his intimidating demeanour, and in regular house pants and t-shirts he just looked too big and too clumsy, and very, very childlike. In pure exasperation Tony had drawn up a 'lesson plan' for Thor, which detailed how to use all the appliances, a list of daily activities he could choose from, a list of chores to keep him busy (and which would hopefully teach him how to be semi self sufficient) and as a result Tony spent a few minutes every morning after breakfast telling Thor what was on the agenda that day, suggesting things that kept him as far out of the way as it was possible for him to get. Thor was immensely grateful, thanking Tony every time for being such a great friend and such a congenial host, but really, it was all a ploy to keep Thor away from pestering Loki.
Loki himself was far from domestic, but seemed to have none of the problems Thor was facing in terms of adapting to Midgardian life; when he did occasionally leave his room (clearly when he'd ascertained that Thor was most definitely not in the vicinity) he moved through the house as easily and naturally as if he had lived there all his life, and Tony's gadgets and appliances didn't seem to faze him in the slightest. Tony had caught him on JARVIS's feed examining objects with apparent interest and/or suspicion on more than one occasion, but Loki didn't seem to let unfamiliarity hinder him; or at any rate he simply magicked up whatever he wanted (Tony figured this might be a sign he was 'recovering', as it were) and left it at that.
Tony had also provided him with regular clothes, as with Thor, but unlike his older brother Loki didn't look wrong in them, just…different. Less intimidating, yes, but by no means silly or childlike. He favoured black and green, same as his armour, and managed to look regal and imposing even when wearing black slim fit jeans and a fitted shirt. More than once Tony had found his eyes flitting over Loki, out of jealousy he supposed, that anyone could be that messed up and have gone through so much torment and be so tired and so worn out and yet still look like something straight from the pages of an Armani catalogue.
Pepper hadn't been back since the day Tony arrived with Thor and Loki in tow, and he'd had hardly any contact with the other Avengers; they had left on such an odd note, and Tony supposed they were busy with the huge clear up operation over in Manhattan. He'd felt pangs of loneliness at being 'left out' as it were, but deep down he didn't mind too much – Tony lived off the action, the buzz of the fight, the victory; all the background stuff and the damage limitation and the politics and the press conferences that always followed bored him to death. Besides, it wasn't as if he was totally out of the loop – Fury was checking in with him every evening, wanting Loki updates, wanting to discuss what he was seeing on the live feed pumped through to his base by JARVIS. So far the Director seemed to approve, or to be more accurate, not angry – and as this was as close to praise as Tony was likely to get, he lapped it up, delighting every day in telling Fury that no, Loki had not attempted a homicide today, no, he was not plotting more world domination, no he hadn't tried to escape. Tony could tell Fury wasn't happy with Loki having 'free reign' as he called it, but he couldn't do anything about that – Tony's house, Tony's rules, and however grudgingly he admitted it, Fury had to see that Loki did indeed seem 'safe'. Right?
However, happy as Tony was with how smoothly things were going (if you removed Thor, ever present proverbial bull in a china shop, from the equation), he wasn't naïve enough to think that this was it, that it would all be plain sailing from here. Loki might have a relapse any day. Tony wasn't stupid, he knew how long it had taken himself and how tough the struggle had been. Sooner or later Loki was going to get more…Loki like, and Tony would have to find some way of amusing the god so he wasn't tempted into any dangerous mischief or misplaced trickery. He also had to try and get him to be in the same room as Thor without any more spontaneous Hammer Time vs. Mighty Lightening Bolt circus acts.
Being on new, neutral territory seemed to have done wonders for the god's temperament, although they were yet to discuss anything of substance, exactly – Tony didn't want to push things. He got the feeling no one had ever just wanted to talk to Loki before, without some kind of underlying purpose or negative reason, and it certainly seemed that no one had wanted to listen to him. He pondered many times over how exactly he was going to get Loki to submit to doing either – talking, or listening; and anyway he still had no real idea what he was going to say. He hadn't a clue what he'd imagined the result would be when he'd argued Loki's case back in the meeting room of Stark Tower, but it certainly hadn't been this demented version of Little House on the Prairie, adopted siblings included.
He also didn't know why the fuck this whole situation wasn't bothering him more, but he quickly pushed away that thought, uncomfortable scenarios were places Tony Stark created, not found himself in. Complications were only ever amusing at someone else's expense, and Tony was staying very much on the surface of this potential one. When Loki managed to banish the last of the raw nightmares and residual feelings, Tony had no doubt he was going to revert to being his sly, sardonic self, and Tony had a feeling this - this nonsense would be a distant memory. But to be replaced by what? This whole thing was utter, unarguable madness. What the hell was 'normal Loki going to bring to the party? Tony couldn't spend too long mulling it over, it was just exhausting. Exhausting and crazy. He supposed he'd deal with his feelings on 'normal Loki' when such a thing actually chose to appear.
XXXXX
He didn't have to wait too long. Three days after Thor and Loki's original shouting match – three long, vaguely uncomfortable and unnervingly silent days that is – Tony was just about to make his fifth coffee of the evening and start sketching some blueprints for his latest tablet upgrades when JARVIS made what only be described as a nervous cough – just when did his AI get so damn human like? – and proceeded to tell him that Fury was on the video comms, and that he was obliged to get Tony to talk with him, immediately. The disturbing way in which JARVIS seemed to mirror Fury's voice to the exact octave was Tony's only excuse for being too shocked to make up a convincingly good excuse, and a few seconds later he found himself face to face with the SHEILD Chiefs hologram, hovering a few inches above his kitchen dresser. Cursing himself for putting goddam TV screens everywhere, Tony greeted his boss and plastered on a smile, he'd already spoke to Fury at midday for gods sake, and he got the feeling such a short time between conversations could not be for any reason he was going to like.
''Stark''. Fury's voice was harsh and urgent.
''To what do I owe this pleasure?''
''Don't get smart with me Stark. Really not in the mood. I've had meetings with people who go above me today, way above me, and let me tell you, I did not appreciate the amount of shit they tried to dump on my head. Shit that I, to be perfectly honest, have a hard time arguing against. Shit that involves you, that crazy ass fucker upstairs and this whole fucking sleepover club situation - don't interrupt''he snarled, seeing that Tony was about to interject that hey, this living situ had not been his idea.
''They're suspicious. We're not getting anything out of Loki. He doesn't talk. He doesn't blow stuff up. He doesn't try to escape. That guy's planning something, and he's using your house as his little evil genius cave. And YOU are just sat there letting him. I KNEW this was a bad idea, but I went along with it because I wanted to believe that just this one time, you had a fucking clue what you were doing. And frankly, I'm losing faith. So you better get up those damn stairs and find out what the fuck is going here, or I'm pulling him back in, and this time he's getting a one way ticket to having his arsed well and truly kicked. NO ARGUMENTS STARK'', he finished, seeing Tony's mouth working furiously, desperate to get a word in edgeways. ''Tomorrow. I want him talking or fucking begging forgiveness or something, or I'm sending in the guys, and it ain't gonna be pretty. For him or you. Deal with it''.
And with a last menacing glare, the screen went blank, leaving Tony boiling with frustration and explanations and excuses. He spun round and slammed his cup down on the work surface, fuming. Fury wanted him to talk to Loki? Fury thought he was failing at something that he hadn't even technically asked for, something that the Director himself had shoved in his face and demanded he get on with after leaving no instruction at all?
Well, fuck him. Fuck that. Fuck all the other people at SHEILD, whoever they were. Tony was riled, and he didn't even have time to consider why – he was going to damn well talk to Loki, but not because they'd asked him to, no – because he was not going to let anyone think he, Tony Stark, was a failure. Not again. He'd had enough of that.
He fucking hated being backed into corners. And he got the feeling Loki wasn't going to be too thrilled about it either.