A/N: Sorry for the wait. Supernatural happened. Well, that and illness, but mostly Supernatural... Thank you all for reviews and reading so far.

Chapter VIII—Without His Centre

Dependence (noun): the state of relying on or being controlled by someone or something else.

Tony woke up with the worst headache in history of pretty much everything. A groan escaped his lips. He really shouldn't have been drinking so much. Only, he couldn't remember drinking anything. Instead, there were corridors and the taste of copper on his tongue and an unfamiliar fist.

He blinked. Loki's face, pale and drawn, came into focus through the throbbing behind his eyes.

"Hey." He tried to flash the god a grin.

Loki's lips twitched just a bit. "Is it bad?" he asked.

"I've had worse."

Struggling a bit, Tony managed to prop himself on his elbows and spared a moment to take in his surroundings. He guessed it was the medical bay. Well, healing room. It was different than the one he'd seen Loki in, though. For one, he was lying on an actual bed, not an examination table.

"How did I get here?"

Loki pressed his lips together. "Those imbeciles of the guards realised you were human after you fainted. They dragged you to Thor, who had you brought here." A pause. "What were you doing there in the first place?"

Tony frowned. Something was off with Loki; the formality of his voice, the stiffness in his shoulders, his clouded gaze.

"Looking for food. So, what did I find instead? A super secret treasure room? Some important Ass cheating on his wife?"

"My mother's chambers," came the reply. Loki's eyes shifted to the nearby wall.

"Oh. They're off limits or something?"

"For anyone but the family, as a sign of respect. It's the time of mourning."

"I, uh, didn't know that." Tony shifted, turning to a side. "Babe, are you okay?"

Something shifted under Loki's skin; the barely-there lines around his mouth tightened. "You are the one lying in a bed."

"I'll take that as a no," he said, frowning. At least Loki wasn't lying. That had to count for something, right? It didn't make the tension in Tony's stomach dissipate, though. "Anything I can do?"

Loki shook his head. Then he caught Tony's gaze and cocked his head, as if to convey he changed his mind. "Perhaps."

"Okay, I'm officially worried now. Who do I have to kick?"

Loki's lips remained stubbornly pressed together. Tony's frown darkened. His fingers clutched the sheet as an alternative to reaching for Loki; why he chose that, he didn't know.

"Snowflake?"

"I believe…" A breath swirled between the god's lips. "I believe it would be good… if we didn't spend time together."

Tension locked Tony's muscles into place. "Look, I get it, Asgard is full of assholes, but I don't care. I really don't care if they dislike me. It's not like I came here fishing for approval, so don't worry about that. You want me around, I'll be around."

Oh-so-slowly, Loki shook his head.

"I… am not sure I do."

What?

Tony must have heard something wrong. Definitely. Because Loki had not just said that.

"Wait a sec. You asked me to come here. You—explain that to me, would you?"

He could see how Loki's walls went up, shielding him from the world and every word that came out of Tony's mouth, trying to hide the god from the kindling of anger inside the billionaire. But fuck it, something was happening, and apparently Tony wasn't good enough to get the meme. Not even after he'd been serving as a punching bag and an example of human anatomy to Aesir like a fucking frog to be dissected in a lab.

"It's… complicated."

"Is it?" His eyebrows arched. "Or do you just don't think I should know? I'm kind of involved in this, in case you haven't noticed."

Loki's eyes narrowed. "Too involved. That's the problem. You're too involved in everything."

Tony forced his voice to remain even. There was something in Loki telling him exploding would not be a good idea. "You mean I'm sticking my nose in places it doesn't belong?"

"I mean you're the centre of my existence!" Loki snapped, and whoa, definitely not what Tony had been expecting. But he felt it was something big, now, something larger than Loki's words, and he needed to understand.

"Talk to me," he said softly, temper pushed deep, deep down again in the wake of dread that was subtly spreading through his stomach. His hand finally found Loki's, and even though the god tensed, he didn't pull away.

Those green eyes Tony had seen in so many different states were careful and deep.

"You mean too much to me," Loki said after a soft breath escaped his lips. "I need you too much."

"It's not bad to need someone," Tony offered. It had taken him ages to get that, and maybe he was still working on it, but it felt true when the words left his mouth.

"Not too much. Tony." Loki sighed, looking tired. So tired. He squeezed the inventor's hand. "I've been around for a millennium without you. I fought battles long before your ancestors came to your land, I've learnt more than your whole generation could. And now… Now it's all just you. I can't spend time with you anymore. Not now."

A line cut deep into Tony's forehead. "You're saying you need me, but at the same time that you can't be around me. See the flaw in that logic? You think if you lock yourself into a room, you're just going to be fine? It doesn't work that way. I tried. I tried locking myself away, and look at me. Do I look like a good example of my species?"

For a moment, Loki stared at him. "You function," he said, voice somewhat too even. "You have other people in your life. Just… leave me alone." He stood up, slipping his hand out of Tony's grasp.

"Hey! No. No way I'll let you get away so easily! There's a bunch of stuff you're not telling me and I want to know—"

Tony reached out to grab Loki's hand again, but the bastard retreated and made for the door.

"Hey!" Tony climbed to his feet. "Don't walk away like that, you ass—"

The door slammed shut. Gritting his teeth, Tony strode across the room, trying to ignore the throbbing in his head, and exited the room, too, but there was no sign of Loki.

Great. Fucking awesome. No way was he going to find Loki if the latter refused to be found, which left seething in silence Tony's only option.

"Damnit, you idiot!"

Or not so much in silence.

Of course Loki would do something like that. He'd find some problem in his mind and decide to do something stubbornly stupid about it because no, surely talking to Tony and coming up with an acceptable solution wouldn't be a better idea. After all, Tony was only—oh—the second party involved in their relationship. The ditched party, or whatever he was now. Probably still Loki's boyfriend. Loki's angry boyfriend.

This trip had been a disaster before it had even started.

"Tony Stark."

He almost jumped out of his skin. Almost. Instead, he managed to force a smile (or something trying to pass as a smile) to appear on his lips. "Lady Hlin, was it?"

She nodded and approached from the other side of the hall. "You should be resting."

"I'm okay."

Liar. You're lying.

"It is my duty to take care of you."

"Something like a healer's pledge? Help the diseased and the poor?" He didn't want to be helped right now. Just left alone with a bottle of bourbon. "World peace?"

All right, so he was acting out. What?

Hlin pinned him with a Look. "Return to your room," she said, and how come Tony was only now noticing all the women in his life were scary? Not that Hlin was a woman in his life or something. He still obeyed, though, partly out of resignation. Perhaps if he behaved, she would bring him something alcoholic. Maybe some food, too, even if he wasn't sure he could stomach it; all his previous hunger was gone, replaced by a tight knot in his insides.

Turning on his heel made his head spin. Hlin's hand closed around his arm, steadying him. Stupid gods with super strength. At least she let go and let him walk on his own. He wasn't an invalid.

"Any chance of getting a good drink?" he asked, sitting down on the bed.

"There is water." She nodded at the nightstand and lowered herself into the chair Loki had been sitting in; somehow, Tony didn't like that. "Alcohol wouldn't do you any good now."

Right. "Of course."

Why was she sitting there anyway? "You here to check my head or something?"

Hlin blinked once, meeting his gaze. A second passed in silence. Two. Three. "I might be a healer," she said slowly, "but that is not the only reason I'm here. Above all, I strive to protect those Lady Frigga wished to be protected. That is my duty."

"Thor said you were a friend of the Queen's. I'm sorry for your loss."

That had to be an okay thing to say, right?

"So you do show your nicer side to others as well." Hlin's lips curled just a bit. "Lady Frigga was a Seer."

"Yeah, I know."

"She couldn't talk about the details of her visions… But she was free to discuss the conclusions she came to after Seeing things."

"Mmhm."

"She would talk about you, sometimes."

Tony arched his eyebrows at that. "You grew to like me?"

Another pointed look. "She said you were good for Prince Loki."

"Okay…?"

"So stay good for him."

He hadn't thought the conversation would turn this way, but okay. Maybe he'd found out something useful just now.

"Which one of us are you protecting here again?"

"Both. I heard you were a good man. Lady Frigga very much wished she could meet you."

"Mmhm."

Time. Loki had thought he'd had time. It was always about timing, wasn't it? You could have everything, but you still needed timing.

And timing was a bitch.

"So you don't… hate Loki?"

Hlin reached over to the nightstand and poured a cup of water from the pitcher. She offered it to Tony, who accepted.

"I've been tasked with watching over certain people for a long, long time. I've watched them, I've helped them; Aesir, Vanir, humans…" She cocked her head in a way that was similar to Loki's gesture yet completely different. "No, I do not hate Prince Loki. I watched him grow up after all. But I do judge his actions."

"He saved the Nine Realms," Tony said, suddenly feeling defensive. "I'm not supposed to talk about it, but he did. Wasn't a perfect way, but hell, casualties happen."

Hlin's gaze burned his skin. "You're telling the truth, aren't you?" she spoke at last.

A nod.

"Thank you."

He blinked. "What for?"

"For telling me this."

"You're welcome?"

"You two take care of each other. I know you fought, but when Lady Frigga insisted someone was good for somebody, I was inclined to believe. Don't make me change my mind."

With that she got back to her feet. "Bathing room is that way"—she pointed at the other door in the room—"and somebody will bring you food soon. Don't let me find you out of the room again."

Tony grunted in agreement. A small bubble of relief settled amid all the worry inside him.

There was at least one person in Asgard who approved of his being together with Loki.

~*oO*o*Oo*~

Usually, his footsteps were barely audible, if at all. Now they echoed up and down the room, turning in circles. Fingernails dug crescents in his palms; he pressed stronger until his skin finally broke.

Pathetic. Pathetic, pathetic.

Already, a treacherous voice was telling him to go back to Tony for comfort the way he always did because it was wont to work—except when Tony wasn't there, so he barked at the voice to shut up, bloodied palms pressing against his temples.

How could this have happened? How could he have become so dependent on Tony? He'd spent a millennium on his own, always managing everything on his own, and now he couldn't imagine a life without Tony in it? It was ridiculous. He wasn't a child who couldn't go a day without his mother!

Mother…

No.

He clenched his fists again, nails digging deeper. Pain was familiar. Safe. Unless it was the hurt on Tony's face, so raw and genuine, and Loki had caused it. But Tony would manage. The man was strong.

Soft knocking disturbed the image of Tony's eyes in Loki's mind. He wiped his palms into his pants and walked to the door. "Yes?"

"Uh… It's Jane," came the voice from the other side.

"Tony isn't here."

"I know. Can I talk to you for a minute?"

Loki swallowed a groan. By the Nine, couldn't he get a moment of peace? "What is it?" He leaned against the door.

"You're not going to let me in?"

He could practically hear the frown in her voice.

"No. Talk."

Now she was probably pouting.

"Well, I guess… I wanted to thank you. For saving my life in Svartlf—Svarm—in there."

"Very well. You can go now."

"I mean it. You didn't have to protect me."

"I know." Was she done now?

"So why did you?"

He took a breath. Pressed his lips together. Parted them and exhaled. His insides were twisting with nausea.

"Saving you was the point of the mission. "

"Right. Of course." A short pause. "I have to admit you're a pretty awesome fighter."

A snort rose in his throat, but he swallowed it; he didn't want to risk the bile rising with it. It was a strange thing to hear from someone who wasn't Tony, although perhaps not so unusual coming from a mortal. They were weak after all. Weaker. Tony was a strong as he could be…

"Would you leave now?"

"Uh. Yeah, I can do that. Are you okay?"

Now he did snort. A tiny treacherous part of him felt a spark of warmth at her words (nonsense. People didn't care about him), but he pushed it down.

"I am well enough. Do leave."

"All right. Fine. Bye then."

He listened to her retreating footsteps—slow as if something were holding her back—until they disappeared, then he dragged himself over to the bed and collapsed on it.

A dark hole gaped in his stomach, sucking his soul dry. The air felt cold even though he was a frost giant and shouldn't be affected by the temperature as much. Perhaps it wasn't the temperature then…

How had he gotten so low? Attached to a mortal so badly, built around a mortal because Tony had been there to glue the pieces back together after Loki had been broken apart and trampled underfoot. The only problem was the core—pieces of him spread around the centre, and that central position was filled by his infuriating, precious mortal. He'd rebuilt his sanity around Tony, his everything, and now? Who was he without his centre? Was he anyone, anything, at all?

He pulled his knees up to his chest and draped a quilt over them. The pressure in his gut had apparently decided to remain for good.

There had to be something he still had, something only his own. A way for him to prove he could be perfectly fine without Tony. A way to simply prove himself.

He shifted, mind turning notion after notion around. At last he settled on a thought, but he couldn't find the will to move his body. It felt heavy, aching in places that weren't injured. A part of him didn't understand why he should ever want to move again, and for now, he allowed that part to take over. It was easier that way. He could just lie there, eyes shut, just be whoever he was now, and try to keep breathing. Such a simple task, yet so strenuous…

Minutes slipped away with the rising and falling of his chest. Finally, he forced his muscles back into action. He needed an opportunity to prove he could be strong and stand on his own without Tony? Well, he had one. He just had to take it.

Long strides carried him through corridors, down grand staircases, and past flickering torches that never burnt down, and finally into the pillared hall with the half-crumbled throne. Debris crunched under his boots. He kicked a chunk of stone out of his path, clasped his hand behind his back, and crossed the rest of the distance to the dais. The sad remains of the previously imposing chair made bits of satisfaction flow through his blood. Nevertheless, a part of him squirmed at seeing yet another proof how easily the mighty could fall.

"Allfather."

"Loki." Odin, standing behind the throne, turned towards him. His eye focused on Loki's face. "You seem unwell."

The Trickster squared his shoulders. "The answer's yes. I will help you fight the war."

He held that piercing blue gaze stubbornly until it finally turned lower and broke the connection.

"And in return?"

"You will owe me something. I need free access and permission to use the Tesseract, and I get to ask for a favour in return so long as it doesn't directly hurt anyone." He knew better than to think Odin would agree without the promise no immediate harm would befall his precious Asgard or humans.

Odin's brow furrowed. "So long as it doesn't harm anyone, directly or indirectly."

"And it isn't the Tesseract."

"Yes. I cannot give you the Cube."

"Very well. I will not ask for permanent possession of the Tesseract then. Do we have an agreement?"

Oh so slowly, Odin inclined his head. "I will call the council. We meet at sunset."

It was Loki's turn to nod.

"I heard about Anthony's injury. I'm sorry."

He arched an eyebrow, the other lowering towards the point between his eyes at the same time. Was that mockery, or was there really genuine concern behind the words? Somehow, he hoped for both at the same time. It would be perhaps easier to deal with the first after everything that had happened…

"Thank you."

"Get some rest, Loki."

Pressing his lips together, the younger god turned and strode away, ends of his sleeveless coat catching the wind. At least now he wouldn't have time to feel sorry for himself; he had a war to win.