So when I posted this, I imagined maybe, say, a few reviews and a couple people reading it…but NEVER the response I got. Like, seriously…you guys are AMAZING! ;) :D :3 Sooo much love and thanks to everyone who favourited, followed and especially reviewed this fic! You guys really are awesome. :)

So this chapter is a bit more fillerish, but I felt like it was necessary to get the story and the characters all in place before shit starts to realllyyy go down. ;) My chapters won't usually be this long either, but probably around the same length, depending on where my muse takes me. As for updating, it shall probably be updated every week or so, give or take a few days.

Disclaimer: (Cuz I totally just realized that I forgot to add one for my last chapter ;) I don't own Loki or Tony or any of the characters, or anything really except my crazy plotlines. All of the events from the movies and the characters in them belong to Marvel. If I owned them, I would already have created FrostIron: The Movie (Also rated M for scenes that may cause us fangirls to die of happiness and/or hotness overload :D)

And to conclude my super long author's note, I have decided, with help from my wonderful friend and beta Shells (YOU ARE FANTASTIC! :D) that each chapter will begin with a flashback: something from Tony and Loki's past together, that will give an insight into the characters…or just be plain adorable and canon in my mind. :D

So…enjoy ;) :)

Chapter 2: As the Building Crashes Down…

"You can open your eyes now."

"If I do, will it get me killed?"

"No."

"Burn me?"

"No."

"Eat me?"

"Nope. And come on, that was one time. And it only tried to eat you…"

"...so you are sure it won't kill me?"

"Yes, now Lookkiii…"

"Tonyyyy…"

"Do I seriously have to bribe you to open your eyes?"

"…what would you bribe me with?"

"You're insufferable. And that's coming from me."

"I feel accomplished."

"…please open your eyes?"

"Considering how rare it is to see, well hear, you beg, I shall."

Loki could practically see Tony shaking his head, but the huff of a laugh that escaped his lips brought a smile to Loki's. Nimble fingers moving behind his head, Loki swiftly untied and removed the blindfold that had been covering his face, jaw dropping at the sight unfolding around him.

The two of them were sitting right by the edge of a gorgeous, rocky cliff, surrounded by patches of tall, lush green grass and bright gold dandelions. Trees flanked them, sunlight streaming through the branches and casting a beautiful glow. Waves could be heard crashing below the cliff, and they could be seen in the distance, a soft navy blue sprinkled with white foam. Giant fluffy clouds crowded the light blue sky, creating an overall stunning scene around the two. But what really caught Loki's eye was the picnic laid out in front of him, which surrounded a certain teenage billionaire, who was grinning mercilessly at his best friend.

"Happy birthday Lo!" Tony all but shouted, laughing at Loki's purely stunned expression, the sound melting with the breeze that flowed around them. They were sitting on a classic red-and-white checkered table cloth, and there were arrays of sandwiches and cupcakes (most of them were chocolate with minty green sprinkles, Loki soon realized: his absolute favourite) spread out around them. Tony looked quite proud of himself, shooting Loki another blinding smile before faltering slightly when Loki still didn't say anything.

"I mean, I know it isn't much, but…"

Loki shut him up by leaning forward and wrapping his arms around Tony tightly. He could feel his voice shaking with emotion (nobody had ever done anything like this for him before, so he felt like he had a right to feel emotional, okay?) as he whispered into Tony's shoulder. "It's perfect. Honestly."

He drew back, a beautiful smile playing on his lips as he sat back down. His leg brushed at the side of the square, wooden picnic basket, causing something to fall off of the handle and drop with a soft clink onto the ground. Loki picked it up, curiosity shining in his emerald eyes. "What's this?"

A bracelet, he soon realized. It was made up of a shining gold chain that laced with small but sparkling jade gems. Larger gems and glass beads that were coloured almost every shade of green and red formed a single letter in the middle of it; 'L'. The letter was framed by what appeared to be diamonds (knowing Tony, it most likely was) that formed a vine-like pattern and highlighted the range of alluring colours.

Loki stared at it for a few moments, stunned speechless once more, when suddenly Tony's swearing brought him out of his reverie.

"God fuckin damn it!" Tony hissed under his breath, face turning as red as the gems on the bracelet. "You were not supposed to find that yet! I had this whole speech planned out for when I was going to give it to you and fuck now I don't remember it and-" He was getting more flustered and embarrassed with every passing second, flailing his hands in the air in frustration and exasperation.

So, in order to shut him up again, Loki kissed him.

The two of them kissing was no monumental thing though: it was already established that they had a very close and… interesting relationship. People had seen them kiss before, and now thought nothing of it (even though they sigh in exasperation when they see it, groan about how stupid it is that they aren't together yet, and proceed to tease the crap out of them afterword). But there was something different about this one though…it somehow meant more. So maybe it was, in a way, monumental…not that either of them would ever admit it.

When they parted, foreheads pressing together almost instantly, Tony looked more than slightly dazed, but pleased, and Loki had yet another blinding smile on his lips. "I don't need a speech Anthony. I love it either way. But please tell me you didn't spend as much as I think you did on it-"

"You're worth it," Tony interrupted, protesting with a smile/smirk on his face, "And besides: who else would I spend it on? JARVIS is already spoiled enough. In fact, I just installed him with a British accent. He's never been more pleased. I think I'll keep it, actually…"

Loki simply shook his head, the smile still playing on his lips, and he pulled back slightly, settling back onto the table cloth and breathing in the fresh air. Carefully, he slipped the bracelet on, admiring how it shimmered in the sun and how the cool metal felt against his skin. He looked back up at Tony, who was watching him with undisguised affection and warmth shining in his chocolate brown eyes. Loki returned the gaze unabashedly, feeling, undeniably and for one of the few times in his life, completely and utterly happy.

A smirk crossed Tony' face, feeling just as Loki did, and he reached behind his back and seemingly out of nowhere pulled out a bottle of sparkling wine.

"I took it from Howard while he was off doing god knows what, and before you protest-" he added, reading Loki's thoughts before he even stated them, " you have to live a little Loki! Or at least…do it for me" He winked at that last part as he poured the two a glass each. Soon, one of them was slipped into Loki's hand, who couldn't bring himself to protest and refuse Tony's request. Tony soon raised his glass, giving Loki a pointed look to do so himself. Giving him a long-suffering sigh, Loki followed suit, ignoring the grin that was playing on his lips and the smirk playing on the genius's.

"Happy birthday." Tony spoke, sincere even as he met Loki's eyes.

"Happy birthday," Loki echoed.

And as their glasses clunked together and their rarely heard laughs rang throughout the nature around them…it actually was.

By the time Loki finally reached a motel, a storm was in full-force.

The motel itself was run-down, made up of cracked, bleak beige walls and its name displayed by a flickering red neon sign that appeared to be on the verge of collapsing. Loki parked his car in the equally worn-out parking lot and was out of his SUV, with his bag, and in the building within seconds. Pulling his wet, raven hair back in his slick hands and tying it up using a thin elastic, he shut the door behind him and walked straight up to the counter, where a very young, bored-looking man was flipping idly through a magazine. Loki slid a few bills onto the marble top, eyes boring into the others, impatient.

Eventually, Loki was given the keys to one of the nicer rooms, or so he was told, but the time it took the worker to do so made Loki consider setting the motel on fire (you see, with most people, this statement would be considered an exaggeration, used simply to express their frustration… for Loki it was not). Sighing loudly and glaring unnervingly at the worker as he left, Loki strode down the hall and briskly opened and entered his room…which, with its simple and half-broken furniture and smashed television, not to mention its awful bathroom, only made Loki want to set the place on fire more.

Cursing his luck, he fell onto the bed, ignoring the way it lurched under him, and dropped his bag beside him, his coat following soon after. Rain and hail pelted against his window, crackling and loud. Loki fought the urge to groan, and instead settled for leaning against the back of the bed, an overflowing pillow scrunched between the two.

Ohh well. He was used to these sort of motels and places anyway.

Sighing, Loki picked up a remote from the bedside table, flippantly pressing a few buttons and watching the TV screen illuminate in front of him. The quality and sound emitting from it was less than satisfactory, but Loki ignored the obvious facts and started skimming through the channels.

Documentary…George Clooney movie…another George Clooney movie….finally Loki settled on watching the news. Idly reaching into his bag, he pulled out several files and lay them on his lap, stretching his legs out and fighting back a yawn. He didn't realize that the plane ride from London and the drive to New York City would take as long as it did, and damn was he ever tired. Annoyance flickered through the master-assassin, but as his eyes swept over the files still strewn out in front of him…he knew it would be worth it.

There were 5 hits. 5 people he needed to kill, all located in New York. He needed to stab two of them in the neck, slit one's throat, shoot one and hang the last. Loki wasn't even certain who hired him, but the man was offering a hell of a lot of money for a few simple kills: who was he to refuse over a million dollars?

The men were all wealthy and successful- two lawyers, one business associate and a rising politician- so Loki knew that he would have to watch them for a while before making his move; learn their routines, where they live, when the best time to intercept would be. Whenever he was hired to kill people like them, whose deaths would actually be noticed, he always waited a while and watched them, and took extra care to make sure he could never be tied to the crimes or tracked down because of them.

Loki hadn't been caught yet, and he sure as hell didn't plan on it anytime soon.

The files contained a ton of information and several pictures on every one of his hits, and Loki scanned through them, committing them to memory (he'd have to burn them soon, of course. No evidence could, or was, ever left behind). He wondered vaguely where Laufey managed to get all of this information. But then again, his lousy excuse for a father, and boss for that matter, never really did tell him that much. Although, being the leader of a secret organization of assassins could probably get you a lot of information if you knew where to look. And Laufey always did.

As he read the notes and pondered over this, he faintly listened to the droning of the TV anchor in the background, who was discussing recent protests about politics or something else Loki really didn't have the time nor need to care about or really follow.

"…and in other news, video footage and pictures of the Avengers fighting off yet another one of the world's threats have been released. They are available to be viewed on our website. This clip in particular, however, has already caught the attention of millions."

A fuzzy, lopsided video appeared on the screen, and looked to be taken by a phone that was dropped and left behind, showing a horrific scene. Tall, proud skyscrapers and buildings stood bravely against the flames that were rapidly devouring and burning it, leaving behind heaps of rocks and broken, melted, shattered glass. The street had a giant, gaping crack running though it and ruined, barely-recognizable cars jutting out from their sides and all around. It was like a… battlefield.

Actually, it was. This was only proven when a loud, piercing scream suddenly erupted, and a red-and-gold metal figure landed heavily on the ground.

Iron Man.

A bus skidded onto the screen, its wheels whirling furiously as it arched forward, as if beckoned by the chaos. Almost instantly, Iron Man had his hands out in front of the bus and was pushing it backwards, gently setting it onto the road once more before turning away, arms still raised and repulsors firing at oncoming attackers. The bus, which had black burn marks and visible scratches running along its sides, hurriedly skidded backwards and out of sight while the superhero stayed in the shot, still fighting off unseen enemies…

When suddenly a nearby skyscraper collapsed and fell on top of him, swallowing up the phone seconds later.

Loki, who had been watching with gritted teeth and hand poised over the off button on the remote, suddenly froze. He felt an uncontrollable wave of white-hot panic wash over him, hating how instant and strong his reaction was. And still hating as his body slumped against the bed once more, as the TV announcer's next words were spoken in that annoyingly mousy way of theirs.

"We are luckily able to report that Tony Stark, also widely known as Iron Man, is okay and has been checked out of the hospital with minor injuries. The damage done to his suit, however is, as he has stated: 'severe but manageable, and annoying as *beep* to deal with'. Thanks to him and the Avengers, the city was protected and saved once more. Despite the damage done, it too shall recover and-"

Loki shut off the TV with the violent click of a button, clenching his hands furiously as he tried to fight the wave of dizziness that had overcome him.

This was why Loki hated…well, a lot of stuff. Newspapers, watching TV, going on the computer...everywhere you looked there was 'Iron Man' this and 'Avengers' that and Loki forced to remember everything and then see stupid fucking Anthony risking his life over and over again…he hated it.

But the thing he hated the most?

How terrified and awful seeing his ex-best friend in danger made him, even though he hated the man (or at least, that's what he has been telling himself for years now). He loathed the feel of bile and fear that threatened to crawl up his throat when he saw Tony in videos and situations like that, because despite everything that happened between the two of them, all of the grief and destruction they ended up causing each other…Loki just couldn't forget everything that once happened. The feeling of falling, but for once in a good way, and letting himself actually be: Tony had caused that, and though it never did end well, the memories were impossible to forget.

(Loki wouldn't ever admit this even on the pain of death, but when Tony was kidnapped and presumed dead while in Afghanistan, Loki committed a record number of assassinations and promptly blew up his first building while sobbing in a furious, grief-induced haze.)

Taking deep, calming breaths, Loki glanced back down at the files, which suddenly seemed annoying and meaningless. Stacking them swiftly into a pile and shoving them back in his bag, he stood up, all long limbs and lean legs, and stretched slightly. He wished he brought the rest of his luggage inside with him, but since he never really stayed in any motel, or place for that matter, very long, he didn't think it was worth it. But at least he packed another outfit in the bag he had with him now. It was supposed to be for the morning, but screw it.

Reaching down once more, he pulled out and changed into a pair of black skinny jeans and a dark low-cut t-shirt, and wrapped a shimmering, jade-green scarf around his pale neck. Grabbing his leather jacket and shaking it slightly in order to dry it, he slipped it on and tightened the elastic that was holding his hair at bay. Grabbing his bag once more, he left the accursed motel room without a second glance.

He could find (and afford to) a new motel later.

But right now he wanted these goddamn thoughts and him out of his head, so he decided that maybe tonight he could afford to let go a bit and do something for himself. So, throwing the idiotic motel worker on last glare on his way out, he soon climbed back into his car and, the piercing howl of the icy wind flooding his ears, started to head over to New York City.

...and it didn't just have to do with him wanting a drink.

Tony's eyes fluttered shut as he leaned forward, hands limply cupping the icy water that was streaming steadily from the tap. He sighed as he brought his hands to his face and let the cool liquid run over it, breathing slightly shakily.

He was acting like an idiot.

Pepper was out there, lovely and gorgeous as always, waiting patiently for him, her boyfriend, at their reserved table at this somewhat-fancy restaurant Tony had hastily decided they should spend and celebrate their anniversary in. After this, they would go for a nice walk through Central Park. It was all very simple, very classic, very not-Tony-like. And Pepper had been thrilled at the thought of such a quiet and romantic evening…as opposed to their everyday, hectic lives. Truth be told, Tony too was pleased at the thought of such a carefree, simple night, where he didn't have to worry about anything and could just enjoy himself with the woman he cared about more than basically anyone else.

And instead he was here, hiding out in the washroom.

And he just couldn't understand why.

He turned the tap off, sighing as he saw his reflection in the mirror. His once slicked-back dark brown hair was starting to act up again, struggling to go back to its normally ragged, beautifully messy state. His eyes, which normally shone a bright, teasing brown, seemed dull, lacking off their usual life and light, and bleak grey bags stood out against his ashen-looking skin. A small, light red cut grazed his right cheek from a recent battle, followed by a longer one by his left temple. He was wearing a black-and-white suit, and he noticed that because he had been twirling the end of it so much the tie was starting to loosen and unravel. He quickly unwound the tie from around his neck, resting it against the sink's side and leaning forward heavily.

He had spent most of last night looking through the many murder cases, videos and pictures that this assassin Fury had somehow talked him into tracking down had committed and were involved in. It stunned Tony that one man was capable of causing all of that horror and pain and death, and could simply go around killing people for a living with no regrets or remorse…and it also meant that Tony had to spend hours digging through all of the crap he had caused. And yet, Tony still couldn't find anything that lead him to the man's identity. JARVIS was in the process of, using the pictures of the blurry figure committing the murders, collecting the weight, size and height of the man (SHIELD said that they would do that and give him the answers to those questions, but Tony preferred to do his own investigating, thank you very much). And when Tony was finally able to go to sleep…the nightmares had begun.

People always thought that 'superheros' were just that: amazing, emotionally indestructible, super people who simply saw every battle as yet another one done. They didn't see the aftermath; the flashbacks, the injuries, the anger and fear that had coursed violently through their veins,all crashing down on them…they all had their demons, their hauntings, and as for Tony? Well, he had a lot of them.

Last night, it had been the building crashing down on him-both figuratively and literally. He'd seen how many people watched that video, hell, he'd seen it on the news. Everyone was watching his fall, and though thrilled that he was okay, how was he? They didn't see him in his suit at the time, his horrified and soon terrified expression as the building slammed down on him, or hear his words yelled as he was trapped, being crushed by its remnants. His suit had taken most of the blow, but he couldn't deny the pure and utter terror that had gripped him, burning and all-consuming. His nightmare started with the building, and moved onto Obie suddenly rising from the rubble, warm and welcoming eyes sweeping across Tony's frozen and immobile face, before his skin started peeling off and revealed a bleeding skull with its mouth wide open in screams identical to those on the bus. Before Tony himself could scream, the sound choking him, the scene shifted. Suddenly, he was everywhere and taking part in everything; he was in every battle, felt every jolt of pain, saw every person die, saw everyone's faces flash before his eyes…and then Loki had appeared.

Tony's eyes flew open, his previous, thoughts of his dream and oh so screwed up life immediately dissipating at the thought of the man.

…even though Loki was probably a huge reason as to why he was so screwed up in the first place.

Loki, to Tony, was… everywhere. When Tony was trapped in that cave in Afghanistan, he would wake up screaming from nightmares where Loki was there with him, that Loki was getting shot and dying in Tony's arms. When he came back to civilization, he couldn't help but feel a giant, aching pain when he never heard from or saw Loki (did he not care that he was actually alive?) and when he became Iron Man and faced down and fought villain after villain, he could almost see Loki's face, his annoyingly gorgeous face, watching him. After…ithad all happened, he felt himself falling into some sort of all-seeing abyss, unable to stop it from swallowing him whole. But then he officially inherited Stark Industries, and met Rhodey and Happy...and Pepper.

Pepper had helped him the most. She helped him move on and fill the giant gaping hole Loki had left. And though she still wasn't Loki, he felt happy with her, more complete. He eventually became part of the Avengers, and despite going through a hell of a lot of crap to get there, Stark Tower became Avengers Tower, and they all moved in and formed one giant, more-than-slightly-screwed-up family.

But there was always something missing from Tony's life, and that was Loki.

(Who despite searching endlessly through record after record, he could never find. The man had practically disappeared from the face of the earth, and it pissed off and scared Tony to absolutely no end.)

…wait, when did hiding out in the bathroom turn into stand there and think about everything fucked up about Tony and his life?

He soon put the tie back on, and fixed up his hair as best he could. Wiping his face dry of any leftover traces of water and plastering his signature cheeky grin, he strode out of the washroom, blocking out his previous thoughts. He felt his grin lift slightly at the sight of Pepper, who smiled at the sight of him walking over to her. She really did look beautiful in her light turquoise, shimmering dress and with her auburn hair tied back. Tony soon slide back into his seat, cursing himself for the pang of unexplained melancholy that hit him.

"Miss me?" He asked innocently, hand instantly reaching for the glass of red wine that was inches away from the white china plate that their appetizers had on. He was aware of the wide-eyed looks and stares the two were getting: it isn't every day that you see the world-famous couple of Tony Stark and Pepper Potts casually dining at a New York City restaurant.

"Only because you're paying." Pepper quipped back, grinning as she too took a sip of wine.

Tony suddenly raised his glass, staring at his girlfriend with a serious look on his face, "Happy anniversary Pep," he stated (in another time, it was like saying 'happy birthday' to Loki-same voice and tone of sincerity and everything) when suddenly something, or someone caught his eye.

He vaguely heard Pepper reply, and felt their glass clink, the motion sending light vibrations down his arm. But Tony's eyes were fixated on the person behind her, his breath jamming in his throat and heart coming to a rapid stop at the sight. It couldn't be…

Suddenly, the man looked up from the menu his eyes were previously fixed on.

Suddenly, a pair of intoxicating green eyes met Tony's deep brown ones.

Eyes that Tony knew better than anyone else's.

Loki…

…I really am sorry about the cliffhanger. *winces* But the more reviews I get, the more I'll be tempted to write the next chapter even faster… ;) :D