Okay, I am ssooooo sorry for the late update. School is, simply put, a bitch. So is my science teacher :D But anyways ;), I am really sorry for being so late, but I promise I am not abandoning this story! I have big plans for it already, so even if the updates are late, they will always come eventually! :) But you guys are seriously the best and most amazing readers EVER, and thank you so much for all of your reviews, favs and follows! :D :3 I promise I will get to replying to the reviews soon, and to my anon reviewers you will get your replies in the author's note in the next chapter! :)

Thank you sooooo much to my wonderful beta Shells: love you! :D :3 And also lots of love and thanks to Sarah: you threatened me to update and it worked! :D

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Just my twisted mind and ideas *cries* ;)

Warnings: Ummm...language. For sure. ;) And Loki being a badass. But that's about it ;D

Chapter 3: Surprising Sightings

"Eventually you are going to have to open that door!" Tony's voice, stubborn and unyielding, floated through the walls, causing Loki to look up.

"Not likely!" He called back, voice scratching and soon breaking into a hacking cough. Fighting back a groan, he leaned into his bed, grabbing another tissue with achy, protesting bones. His throat was raw and throbbing, and his head was pounding dully in his skull.

Loki hated being sick.

…And Tony knew this. Which is why the stubborn bastard had been banging on his door for the past half hour and refusing to leave. Loki was even pretty sure he had set up some sort of camp outside his dorm room. Loki sighed again.

"Tony, just go to class! I'm fine!" he cried out in exasperation. He loved the genius billionaire, he really did…but it was times like these that he just wanted to strangle him. A lot.

"Also not likely!" He called out cheerfully, before adding, "And please, when have I ever actually willingly gone to class? At least you are here to keep me company this time…if you would just open the goddamn door!" He emphasized the last part.

Loki looked between the door and where Tony's voice was coming from, and around his room. It was impeccable as always: his paintings and other artwork he enjoyed were scattered neatly around and on the pale beige walls, adding a certain colour and joy to the otherwise plain room. He had a TV that was placed on a small table by the room's window, which held a gorgeous view of the university's campus, and a radio was beside it. His bookshelf was filled to the brim with textbooks, literature novels and sketch books, while the solid, wooden desk beside it was stacked with his art tools: dozens of canvas, which ranged in size, and container after container of paint brushes, coloured pencils and charcoal. Tony always teased him about how easy it was to tell what Loki loved and was studying, but Loki had caught him admiring his paintings more than once…which is why with his next words, Loki hoped he wouldn't destroy them, accidentally or not.

"For the love of - ugh fine." Dragging himself to his feet with an annoyed and yet another ever-suffering sigh, he walked over unsteadily to the door, yanking it open with a glare.

Tony was standing there with a cheerful grin on his face, his arms filled with things that Loki couldn't seem to place through his bleary eyes. "Morning sunshine!" Tony greeted him, smirking as he ignored Loki's deadly expression and pushed himself into the room. "And how are we this fine morning?" Tony dropped the things he was holding on the floor nearby Loki's bed, and strode over and opened the pale gold curtains, causing blinding sunlight to flood the room.

Loki groaned again, walking over and collapsing onto his bed. "I hate you." He spoke through gritted teeth and a mouthful of pillow.

"I know." Tony replied, voice sickeningly sweet, before continuing, "Now. I dropped by your classes and spoke to your teachers and told them I gave you mono-"

"-Excuse me?!-" Loki shot up from his bed.

Tony held up his hands defensively "-kidding, kidding. But anyways, they told me to give you all of this crap-a.k.a work- to do while you're out of it."

Loki deflated and rubbed his hands over his face, "Well, thank you, I suppose." He coughed slightly, but he couldn't help but feel a little surprised that Tony did that for him, before something occurred to him.

"What did they say about your less than stellar attendance to your classes? I've heard it is legendary among teachers…"

Tony winked cheekily, "Don't worry about me, sweetcheeks. Plus…I persuaded them to change the subject."

"Blackmail is never the answer, Anthony."

"Who said I blackmailed them?"

"…"

"…JARVIS made me do it."

"I bet."

Tony beamed at him and Loki sighed in exasperation, pretending not to notice the smile tilting on his own lips as he stretched back on the bed, snuggling deeper into the warm cotton. The room soon fell into a comfortable silence.

Until he felt something, or someone, drop beside him on his bed.

Loki cracked one eye open.

"…what are doing?"

"Making myself comfortable, of course." Loki jerked upwards when he felt an arm wrap around his waist and Tony's hot breath, smelling of caramel coffee, tickle his ear.

"Tony, I'm sick," He snapped, trying to push the laughing billionaire away from him, but to no avail.

"I've been told that I'm pretty sick too…" he purred, grip tightening, and Loki shot him a look.

"…I don't even know how to comment on that."

"Well, you love me anyways. Mostly because I brought you some soup."

He suddenly reached down and pulled out a bag that Loki hadn't even realized he had been holding previously, handing it to Loki with an expectant look as he finally released his hold on the art student.

Loki soon took out a bowl of steaming chicken noodle soup, which Tony had clearly gotten from a nearby café, and a spoon. He shot Tony a small but grateful smile. "Thank you, but you know you don't have to take care of me…"

Tony rolled his eyes. "What else am I supposed to do?" he pointed out, "Now eat or so help me I will destroy your school crap where it lays." He pointed threateningly at the textbooks and papers that were strewn across the thin, sand-coloured carpet. Both Loki and Tony were now sitting cross-legged on Loki's bed, and Loki rolled his eyes before opening the container, breathing in the sweet steam and slowly taking a sip of the broth, feeling Tony's eyes on him the whole time. He moans contently as it slid down his throat, soothing it.

"...if I'd known that giving you soup would make you make such sexy noises, I would have done it way before now."

At this, Loki choked on the soup, causing him to start coughing harshly…and the soup to spill forward. Onto Tony' lap.

(Weeks later, they're still arguing about whether 'Tony screamed' or 'cried out in surprise and in a manly fashion'. Loki maintains he screamed.)

"Sorry!" Loki managed to gasp between coughs as the other man leaped around the room, swearing loudly and grabbing one of Loki's blankets, trying to wipe the scalding soup from his pants.

"It's okay, not your fault…" He said through gritted teeth. Soon after, after Loki stops coughing and/or choking and Tony quits swearing and the pain subsides, they both stare at each other and burst out laughing.

(This of course, soon leads to Loki coughing again, but the two are so caught up in the moment that they keep on laughing madly anyways.)

Eventually, they calm down, and Tony turns to Loki with a serious look on his face. "No more soup."

"No more soup." Loki agrees, trying not to giggle.

"How about I go pick up some tea or something?" Tony offered, "After I, you know, change my pants." He gestured at his damp jeans with disdain.

Loki nods thankfully, a smirk twisting on his lips despite himself. "Will you be alright?" He asked, voice thick and as sweet as honey.

Tony seemed to consider this as he headed towards the door. "Without you, darling? That is a tough one…maybe you can come and help me?" He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, causing Loki to shake his head, laughing again but this time not being interrupted by a cough.

"You may go now." Loki threw a pillow at Tony's head as he spoke, still high off of sickness and laughter (or both).

Tony smirked again as he reached the door, "Your wish is my command." He spoke lightly, before pausing and casually adding with twinkling eyes, "Ohhh, and I forgot to mention… nice shirt."

Loki looked down and realized he was wearing his favorite, never-to-be-seen-by-anyway-but-himself Doctor Who t-shirt.

"…shut up Anthony. Just...shut up."

Tony's wine glass, once clutched oh so tightly in his unsteady hand, slipped from his grip and hit the table with a resounding shatter.

Because for Tony, it was like his world had suddenly stopped, in all its entirety and glory.

Because there he was.

A dim part of him recognized Loki before he could even properly register it. He did look different though: his angled cheekbones looked sharper than before, prominent against his still-pale skin, which shone even in the restaurant's pale lighting. His hair was longer, a striking and spiky raven-black that reached down to his lean shoulders. His smooth, faintly pale lips were curved slightly, almost as if they were used to being in some sort of permanent scowl. But his eyes were still the same, only this time…they looked darker. More guarded. But they were still that lovely, deep green that had captivated him from day one…the ones that had haunted Tony for years.

He knew instantly that Loki recognized him, too. How could he not? Tony was constantly on and in the news, and Loki had to have seen him somewhere…or wherever the hell he had been.

It was that thought that snapped him back to reality. Loki was here. In New York. After years and years of dropping off the radar, being completely and utterly gone, as if he had performed some magic voo-doo crap and managed to disappear off of the face of the earth…he was back. Tony didn't know how, or where, but he was.

Pepper said something to him, sounding concerned, and he felt her hand (which suddenly felt as if it had been doused in ice) brush his own. But he still didn't look at her, and hadn't even realized he was standing until now, Loki's name bubbling disbelievingly in his throat.

Loki was staring at him too, looking as stunned as Tony felt. He had been standing at the front beside a short, uniformed waiter who was no doubt about to lead him to a seat at the now-fading-into-the-background restaurant. But instead of standing up, about to call his name as Tony was, his face drained of whatever colour they previously had, pale and stricken. Instead of continuing to look stunned, his eyes shone with a horror that made Tony's mouth run dry. And before the genius/billionaire/playboy/philanthropist (who was so rarely speechless and caught off guard except now he felt like he could barely breath) could even open his mouth or react…Loki had taken off out of the restaurant, the door closing with a thud that resonated in ears behind him.

Once again, Tony was paralyzed. Until a sudden thought ran through his head: he's running again.

Maybe for good this time.

No.

So naturally, ignoring Pepper and her calling after him (despite how cold-hearted that was, considering it was their fucking anniversary after all), Tony shot out of the restaurant and went after Loki. He could hear and see cameras flashing around him, no doubt fixated on him, but with his heart pounding and leaping in his throat, he couldn't bring himself to care.

You aren't running away from me this time, you bastard.

Loki knew coming to the restaurant was a mistake.

It was expensive, righteously so, too fancy and the food was probably super, sickeningly rich compared to what he was used to (the cheap fast food restaurants and convenience stores that riddled the world no matter wherever he ended up).

But he had ended up driving around New York City's downtown area for a while, trying to clear his head of thoughts (Tony) and stupid indiscretions (also Tony), and this was the closest place to where he had gotten tired and angrily parked his car. He had forgotten how beautiful New York City was, with its bright, multi-coloured lights that appeared at every turn, the murky violet-pink sky that dotted the background, and the cool, smooth water that surrounded it. It was colourful, filled with people with hopes and dreams and fears and life.

(Something Loki was a bit of a master of destroying.)

So all in all, he knew that even just being there, where people might even recognize him, was stupid, and a potentially giant mistake. But he was also a master of mistakes, so why the hell not?

…but then he fully realized how badly he screwed up when he saw Tony Stark sitting there at a table, staring with wide, annoyingly deep brown and piercing eyes right at him.

Oh shit.

The waiter beside him, who had been about to lead him to his own table, stopped and turned to look at him, confused and voice concerned. "Sir?"

Loki watched, too shocked to move, as Tony stood up, lips (the stupid, stupid lips that were so familiar to Loki it hurt) moving lightly, and he knew instantly that Tony knew it was him. He could feel himself grow pale at this, heart thudding dangerously and a growing horror rising.

No, no, no, no, no, he can't, not now, not-

So Loki did what he always did.

He ran.

Arms tightening around the coat he had just taken off, he whirled around and quickly shoved the thick glass doors open, pushing past people as he took off down the street. He could hear annoyed shouts sounding behind him, but in his more-than-slightly panicked state he barely noticed.

He had spent years without running into anyone he knew from his past, without anyone recognizing him. He had fully intended to keep it that way, because if he didn't? He would have to talk and explain to them where he had been, and everything was too complicated and so…different. There was no going back, but of course, he saw the one person he told himself he could never see again.

Tony.

Double shit.

Loki soon stopped running, breaking into a swift walk and melding into the crowd, arms wrapped around his stomach to keep that ill feeling from taking its toll.

Tony looked well. His face was clean-shaven; the light shadow of scruff he always used to wear gone, and his hair was neatly styled and shorter. He had been wearing a dark grey suit, with a navy blue tie that looked uncomfortably tight around his neck. He skin looked tanned, and his eyes still held that intensity and brightness that they always did. Loki had seen him countless times in tabloids and newspapers, but actually seeing him for the first time in so many years made a shiver run down his spine.

Because they hadn't exactly ended on the best terms, now had they?

…and also Pepper, his girlfriend, was there. Loki may not have fully seen her, but he recognized the long, fiery red hair that ran down her lean back, which was highlighted with an expensive, silk turquoise dress. Loki had seen her wearing it on many magazine covers, whether she was with Tony or not (and she usually was, which was why Loki never actually bought or read magazines anymore…not that he would ever admit that.)

Another thing Loki would deny until his dying breath was that he could feel his heart clench slightly when he saw them, so clearly on a date. In love. Together. Almost like he and Tony once were…

Then he thought of blood and screaming and death and the people he killed and felt those stupid, moronic emotions dissipate (but not entirely).

Loki realized he had no idea where he was going, but continued walking anyway. When all of a sudden he heard a voice from behind him call his name.

"Loki!"

Feeling his heart constrict at the desperation in Tony's voice, Loki pushed forward, breaking into a run again despite the crowds, hearing the voice grow dimmer and dimmer. He soon passed by an alley, and without an ounce of hesitation turned down it.

It was worn-down, with broken walls riddled with graffiti and shattered windows lined with wooden boards. Garbage was scattered all around, plentiful and its putrid smell undeniable, despite the large amount of garbage cans that also lined the place. Smoke drifted through the air, drifting and leaving a bitter taste in Loki's mouth as he stepped warily forward, eyes glancing for a way out without having to go back the way he came.

…it was when the black-hooded men started stepping out from around him that Loki realized how badly he screwed up again.

"Well, well, what have we here." One of the men spoke, and Loki's eyes widened when he realized he, along with the others flanking him, were twirling guns and knives in their gloved hands. He could hear footsteps crunching behind him, and realized he was surrounded.

Just his luck.

"I don't want any trouble." Loki spoke, voice wary and containing an edge.

"Oh really now?" The lead man drawled, "Well, sadly, we have been waiting for some moron to come along all night. So, boys…go for it."

They all started to move in on Loki, who sighed, irritated. I'm the moron?

When the first one swung his arm in a punch, Loki reacted.

Whirling around, he grabbed the man's wrist and twisted it, hearing a bone snap and him let out a shrill scream. Grabbing the gun from his now-limp hand, Loki slammed the handle against his skull, and kicked him expertly into the man standing there in shock beside him. The two went sprawling, falling and sliding against the gravel with harsh thuds.

Turning around, Loki raised the gun at the others, who despite the black hoods covering half of their faces were clearly stunned. "Who's next?" the assassin asked.

They all lunged at him this time, weapons raised. One slashed a knife at Loki, who simply ducked it and kicked the man square in the chest, sending him into a garbage can. Another man cocked his gun at Loki and was about to pull the trigger, when Loki raised his own weapon and shot him straight in the shoulder, causing him and his weapon to fall with a loud yell of pain. Loki felt a strong arm wrap around him, attempting to restrain him, and Loki threw back his head, feeling satisfied as he heard the man cry out, even though his own head hurt now too, before twisting around and knocking him out with a few swift blows to the head.

Loki could hear the remaining men yelling, shocked and fearful, and dived to the side and behind a nearby garbage can when bullets started to be fired beside and around him, wild and aimless.

These people have no idea what they're doing, Loki realized as they continued to shoot at him. Sighing in annoyance, and too tired to do much else, he stood up from behind the garbage can, flinging it at the nearest person, causing him to be slammed them into a wall, and quickly taking down the remaining two by grabbing their guns and twisting them out of their frozen grips, slamming them into each other's faces with dull thuds and causing them to drop to the ground like stones.

Way to easy, he thought as he looked around, surveying the damage. The men, foolish and misguided gang members, Loki supposed, were all splayed out on the ground, and their weapons were scattered around the alley. He slipped the gun he was holding into his boot, and grabbed any other weapons he had touched and could be tied to, putting them into the men's hands and curling their cold fingers tightly around them. One of the men groaned, eyes flickering open lightly, so Loki promptly kicked his across the face, causing it to snap to the side and for him to fall silent once more. Suddenly, he realized that one of them was missing. Peering around and assessing their sizes, he realized it was the leader. Probably ran, the coward…

"…Loki?"

He froze, dread seeping through his bones at the voice, which had lost its desperation, and now just sounded…absolutely stunned. Slowly turning around, knowing there was no other way out of the alley and with his heart pounding furiously, Loki turned to see Tony standing there, jaw hanging open and shock shining in his eyes. Loki swallowed, feeling vaguely sick once more, and his throat, still dry from fighting, screamed at the notion.

Mind raking for ways to get out of this and away from Tony and his annoyingly searching and perceptive eyes, Loki suddenly heard something rustle and sound behind him. But before he could react, he was suddenly struck from behind, a sharp object slamming into his skull and causing Tony to almost instantly blur. Blinding white dots appeared before his eyes, and before Loki could say or do anything else his vision was plunged into total darkness.

Tony's jaw continued to hang open unattractively as he watched his ex-best friend crumple to the ground, struck with the piece of a pipe from behind. Tony opened his mouth, no doubt about to react and/or do something stupid, but the man had already barreled by him and taken off down the street, much like Loki had before.

Loki.

Tony was racing towards the man before he even knew it. Kneeling in front of him, he gently flipped Loki over with shaky hands, and lifted his head up slightly (all while trying not to focus on Loki's face, which was as flawless as ever). He soon felt a clean cut on the back of the other man's head, more long than deep, and wet from blood. When Tony brought his hand away, it was stained with it. Tony took off the tie he was wearing, and lightly pressed it to the wound.

What the hell happened here?

Tony hadn't hesitated to chase Loki through downtown New York, which was saying something because there were cameras and people everywhere, and he wasn't exactly an inconspicuous person. Luckily, he had managed to very quickly convince some hobo to give him a hat to cover his face, although he had almost managed to blow his cover by yelling Loki's name on the streets. But luckily no one realized it was him because he had run away so fast, and it is also a well-known fact that Tony Stark did not do cowboy hats, especially in public. But when he had almost given up, and walked by that alley, only to see Loki surrounded by a bunch of people, unmoving and some even appearing to be armed…Tony was just a little confused and a little stunned. It didn't help that his heart seemed to stop when Loki got knocked out by some black-hooded douchebag with a pipe.

Sighing, Tony looked around again, observing the rows of unconscious men. They appeared to be holding their weapons, even in their current state…had they been fighting and Loki had walked in on them? It was possible, but then why wasn't Loki calling the police when Tony found him? Something about this was off. And there was also that lingering question…where the absolute hell had Loki been? And why was he back? And why did he run away like that when he saw Tony? (Okay, maybe he knew the answer to that, but he was an expert at being in denial when something hurt and bothered him.)

Plus, Tony was a scientist. And scientists were pretty damn persistent in getting answers.

So Tony decided in that instant to make a most likely stupid decision, but one that may hopefully end well and pay off in the end. There's nothing wrong with hoping for the best, after all.

Reaching into his suit's pocket, he took out his cell phone and scrolled through his contacts until he came across a familiar face and number.

Watching Loki as the phone rang, Tony wondered what the fuck is going to come of this, and how much trouble this is going to land him in.

"Hey, Happy? Yeah, I need you to pick me up. Preferably not in the limo. And before you ask…Pepper isn't with me. I know we were having dinner, but…shit happens. Yeah. Where? Ummmm…I'll get back to you on that. Also, bring a first aid kit. No no, I'm fine, but I still need it. Why? Well, it is kinda a really long story…"

…I don't know how to feel about this chapter. I am okay with it….but I dunno ;) But still: I hope you enjoyed, and please review and tell me what you think! :D ;) Ohhhh, and feel free to check out my new and other FrostIron story, 'When You Let The Devil Crawl Into Your Heart'! ;D