Loki awoke hours later, his eyes taking in the darkness around him. He was hot, terribly hot, and his body shook slightly. He lifted his hand weakly. It flopped back down, seconds later, with a thud. Blue, he saw before it left his vision. Blue and covered in markings. He winced. His skin was hot, and every breath scalded his throat.

He took the pain as a good sign he wasn't dead.

"Tony," he whispered, praying the Iron Man was near or at least, present. His prayers did not go unanswered. A hand touched his own tentatively. It burned, bad, but he didn't want to let go. He never wanted to let go.

"Hey, Sleeping Beauty." There was a weak smile, and the god responded with a breathy laugh.

"I am... No such beauty."

"You remember, don't you? Your opinion equals invalid. Hey, wait." Tony smiled a bit wider, leaning closer so Loki could almost feel his warm breath over his face. "Did you just call me Tony?"

"Death... Dying seems to bring upon... New miracles, Stark."

"You're not dying, Laufeyson."

"Lies... Seem to be brought on... As well."

Tony kissed Loki's cheek, the smile falling from his lips. He brushed away a few strands of hair that drifted into Loki's face, then looked into his yellow-and-orange eyes. "You're not dying."

"If... If that is what you believe..." He sighed, looking at Tony's face, the way worry was etched into every line, the crows feet at the corners of the inventor's eyes, his own reflection in Tony's eyes. And he rasped, "You're beautiful," because it was true, to him, this mortal man was the most beautiful creature he'd ever seen.

Tony was taken aback at the comment, and raised an eyebrow, questioning. "How do you figure?"
"Your face... it shows your feelings through... As if your mind's masterpiece... As if it moves. Your skin... as if it's reflecting your sun upon me, colored by the rays. Your eyes... they shined so brightly for me before, and yet... And I fear... It is I who have dulled that light... That once glowed."

"I don't know about all that but... If you say so." He looked Loki up and down, then furrowed his brows, thinking. "Why didn't you get so weak earlier? You know, the kitchen...?"

"I had my... My enchantments that sort of... Protected me from the warmth... Plus, it was only for a short while..." He closed his eyes, suddenly drained from using his words. The genius panicked momentarily, watching Loki's chest rise and fall in an uneven pattern, making sure the god still lived.

"Loki..." Tony whispered, not wanting the trickster to hear the fear ringing in his voice. Loki grunted in response, and Tony let out a sigh. Then, he got to thinking. If Loki was blue, was cold, then obviously what had seemed warm to him was not warm to the Joutun prince, but hot. Desert hot. Desert.

Desert?

Tony's mind drifted to when he was captured, to the achingly hot desert he had to travel through, the wounds on his body making every step, every beat of the burning sun hurt. He remembered that all he could thing of was if someone was going to save him, and how he was going to take a bath in ice cream if they...

Ice!

Tony stood abruptly, and Loki flinched, his eyes peeling open. He looked up at the inventor's face, squinting because there was little light trickling into whatever room he was in through the slightly opened door. "Ice man, I think I have a solution. Temporary, of course - don't freak out, but I'm gonna have to carry you again. Please don't scream."

Had he screamed? He had. He remembered it with horror, leaning onto Tony's hot skin, feeling as though it was branding the shape of Tony's arms into him, searingly hot. He nodded weakly, not wanting Tony to see how unenthusiastic he was about being carried again. Tony tucked an arm under Loki's knees, and carried him off of what he'd just now realized was his bed. It burned softly, through the thin clothes, but he kept his complaints to himself. "JARVIS, can you open the freezer thingy?"

"The sub-zero room, sir?"

"That'd be it, yep."

"Right away, sir."

Loki looked up, questioninly, at Tony, willing the genius to give him an explaination.

"So, there's this place I have to put some of my really cool stuff, haha."

"Funny, I think I recall... Telling you not to... Not to talk stupid to me."

"Too bad, wifey. It's happening."

"Wifey?"

"Shh." Tony winked, making Loki snort softly. Finally, after feeling like they had traveled through the rooms for hours, Loki felt a coldness envelop him. He gasped at how it seemed to shock the heat out of him, and for that, he was grateful. Tony set him down on a metal bench, and Loki shuddered at the freezing cold, not even bothering with wondering where he was. He was tired though, despite the cold making him feel that much better. The inventor backed out, standing beside a big, metal door.

"Now, there's no airlock, but you'd have to tell JARVIS if you ever wanna get out. Because behind this door, I won't be able to hear you."

"Understood. I think... I think I will rest."

"Not for too long?"

"No. Only long enough... For me to regain my powers." He used his tiredness to mask the lie. He knew that something besides the heat from before was killing him slowly. He'd hoped that sleep would tell him. Tony, who believed almost everything, nodded.

"Alright. Sleep well, Loki."

"And you as well, To-" Loki groaned. There was no way he was going to make a habit out of that. "Stark."

Tony grinned, then said something Loki couldn't make out, something directed to him, but too quiet. Trying to fight the haze of sleepiness enveloping him, Loki attempted to read Tony's lips, but before he could make anything out, sleep crashed over him, the deep darkness hurdling him into an almost numb state. And then, it was bright.

Here it comes, Loki thought, the light bleeding through his closed eyelids.
In the brief moment before the light covered him, he remembered Frigga, reading him a story. He couldn't remember what the story was about, but he recalled begging for her to read it again. "That was the end, dear Loki. The end means," she'd leaned close and kissed his forehead, "the end. Good night."

The end means the end, Loki agreed softly. And this is my end. No happy ending, just sadness. The end.

On the other side of the room, Tony sat with his head in his hands. Lokitty hopped up into his lap, mewling at the inventor. Tony smiled softly and rubbed the cat's head.

"Don't worry," He said, his voice hushed. "He'll be fine soon."