The thing about the baby monitor, is that Coulson can't turn it off, or there's no point. No, actually, that's not the problem. The problem is that Tony emknows/em he can't turn it off. He does have the good grace to not cry wolf, but that hasn't stopped him from finding new and increasingly strange things to make noise with.
On the other hand, the squeeky toy insistently dying on the other end, does at least let him know that Tony is keeping the damn thing with him.
Tony is sitting on a rolly chair, behind Loki, who is sitting on the ground, while Tony glues EEG leads to his head, some of Loki's hair flopping forward into his face, as Tony squirts the conductive gel onto his scalp. Clint is sitting in a corner, playing a handheld video game. Coulson glances over Tony's notes, a mix of actual findings, and scribbled questions, probably for Loki. One of them reads, 'you don't look like a frost giant' and Coulson files that bit of information away as...well, a bit relevant.
Thor enters behind Coulson, and sits down in front of Loki, "I have brought you sustenance, Brother."
Loki, who could probably have looked less happy, but only with some serious thought and effort, rolls his eyes. Tony looks up, kicks away against the floor, rolling to where his notes are, and writes, 'do any of the SHIELD facilities have an fMRI?'
"I can find out. Did you eat breakfast?"
'Is it morning?'
"I don't think Thor would be assaulting his brother with breakfast food of dubious nutrition, otherwise."
Loki looks over his shoulder, mumbling around essentially forcefed poptart, "Stark, can you finish so I can escape this onslaught?"
Tony glances at the god, smirks, looks up at Coulson, and writes again, 'I'll finish the last few leads, and then I can go.'
Coulson nods, Tony scoots the chair back over.
Coulson stops, waiting. Tony had stopped, out of breath, his arm linked with Coulson's. There is sweat breaking out on his forehead, and his breathing is harsh, and short. After a few moments, he nods, and starts walking again, but stumbles almost immediately. Coulson tightens his grip, and braces him against the wall, "easy."
Tony just looks miserable.
Banner is washing his plate, when they get to the kitchen. He smiles, at Tony, and at Coulson, too, actually. Rogers turns around from adding flour into some sort of batter, and moves to take over Tony locomacating from Coulson. Tony grins, a little, leaning into Rogers' shoulder. Coulson looks at Banner, who, though hiding his face behind his coffee mug, is definitely smiling.
Tony looks relaxed. He's leaning forward, one hand on Rogers's back to steady himself, as Rogers adds butter and shortening, mixing it in with his hands. Rogers looks over his shoulder, pointing something out for Banner to retrieve, but stops, when he sees Coulson watching. He turns back to the batter, head down. Tony looks at him, face falling, instinctively drawing away in response to the sudden shift in the larger man's mood. Banner glances at Coulson, gets the buttermilk Rogers asked for, and as he sets it on the counter, quietly takes Tony's arm, allowing him to escape the vicinity of the suddenly sullen supersoldier.
Tony sits down on one of the stools, and looks at Banner. Banner shakes his head, with a shrug and a small, almost silent sigh, squeezing Tony's arm before letting go. Rogers shoves the biscuits into the oven with slightly more violence than the door can take, cracking the glass on the front.
Tony watches him go, sadly. He looks at Banner, 'can you ask Clint to check on him in like twenty minutes?'
Banner nods.
Tony's hands clench, twisting the soft blue cotton fitted sheet on his bed, as Coulson cleans the healing craters on his back. Tony gasps, and pulls, until the sheet pops off the corner of the bed with a soft snap, his toes scraping against the fabric, as he squirms, trying not to movie, but in too much pain to stay still. Coulson finishes cleaning, then starts re-dressing the wounds. That isn't as bad, but it doesn't matter, he's already suffering.
When it's done, Tony lies still for a while, face pressed into the now-loose sheet, completely still, further pain a snake just waiting to strike, every muscle trembling. Coulson seats himself on the edge of the bed, gently uncurling Tony's hand from the wrinkles now pressed into the sheet, the fingers shaking, as they curl around his.
After a long while, Tony gingerly turns onto his side. He wipes the tear tracks off his face, and his hand smears fresh blood across his cheek, off his lip. Coulson rests his thumb against Tony's chin, and raises his eyebrows. Tony opens his mouth, allowing Coulson to check. The insides of his lips look like hamburger, he's chewed on them so much.
It looks like some of the worst of the sores on his back are contracting as they heal, pulling so much that it's difficult and very painful for Tony to move his right arm very far in any direction. The healing skin itself is irritated and inflamed, possibly because he never has less than four layers on.
It's legitimately a problem, when the lady at the baby store says hello to him by name.
Coulson returns, to find Tony sitting cross-legged on the floor, monitoring a small display, as Loki conjures many copies of himself. Clint is reading a comic book, on Tony's couch. Coulson sets the shopping bag on the table, and walks over, "any luck?"
Tony turns to look up at him, wincing, and smiles, showing him the display. It means virtually nothing to Coulson, just rows upon rows of squiggly lines, but he nods, "okay."
"Stark. Something is..." Loki falls onto his hands and knees. Clint moves to check what's happening, and quickly withdraws his hand, the moment it touches Loki's shoulder, "he's freezing."
Ice starts to spread out from Loki's hands, and the god screams. Clint calls for help on the intercom, Coulson pulls Tony backwards by the armpits, away from the spreading crystals. He's hyperventilating, but at least he's still with it. Loki collapses onto his side, gasping, twitching with pain, but the ice keeps spreading, chasing towards the South. Rogers, Banner, Thor, and Natasha hurry in, Thor goes to Loki, Rogers physically lifts Tony onto his feet, Natasha goes to clint, asking what's happening, and Banner looks around for a moment, before picking up Tony's display.
"Tony, these waveforms aren't anything like what you were showing me earlier. They almost look like epileptiform, I don't think he's doing this on purpose."
Thor, having pulled his brother's upper body into his lap, shakes his head, "this is causing him great pain."
Coulson looks at Tony. He's stark white, and trembling all over, but he nods, and carefully relieves himself of Rogers' grip, shakily walking to the center of the ice. Crystals spread up, licking at his shoes, but none actually take. He and Banner pour over the readings, and if Tony holds on to Banner's shirt like he's trying to disintegrate it through sheer pressure, nobody mentions.
Banner says something, Tony nods, Banner stands, and runs out the door. Tony stares at the screen, but it's increasingly obvious that fear is taking over, as the crystals slowly creep up the folds of his pants. Natasha crouches in front of him, pulling his upper body against her own, just as Loki screams, for a second time.
Banner returns, he and Thor strip Loki of his coat, and Banner injects something, then checks the monitor. He looks at Tony, "it isn't taking."
Tony doesn't nod, or shake his head. He just stares, ahead, gasping for air. Rogers hurriedly takes him from Natasha, pulling him out of the ice's grip, lifting him in his arms.
Then, as suddenly as it began, it stops. The ice slowly recedes, Loki stops twitching, and lays still, Thor rubbing his back, and trying to pet his hair, despite the EEG leads glued in it. Loki throws up on Thor's leg.
Tony wraps his arms around Rogers' shoulders, buries his face in the larger man's neck, shoulders heaving as he cries. Loki moans, quietly, whimpers, and then is pretty much out, completely insensate as his brother lifts him. The sounds, though, have an unexpected effect on Tony. He sobs, audibly, and a gives little, quiet, hoarse, "no."
"So," says Coulson, "who else was with you?"
Tony looks up at him, from trying to open the packaging on the teething ring Coulson had given him, something for him to bite in pain instead of his lips. He shrugs, and goes back to struggling with the package.
"It wasn't in your report, so it's obviously important."
That gets him at least an amused look, if not an explanation. Coulson confiscates the package, slices it open with his pocket knife, and hands it back to the seated man. Tony is forced to wait outside, while the fMRI is in operation, given it's basically a very large magnet, and a very small magnet is keeping Tony's heart from being shredded to pieces. Thor was also kicked out, since his very presence was screwing up the machinery, but he'd had to wait outside the emhospital/em not just outside the room, so he'd gone to join the others in battle, on the condition that they would alert him the moment he could return to his brother.
They were lucky, that the beast, what seemed to resemble nothing so much as a bull the size of a building, was just that: a large, angry animal. There were no corpses rising, just a lot of smashed property. That, they could deal with. It was almost cathartic, in comparison of the grand scale of what they were facing.
"Are they still alive?"
Tony shook his head, bending an ear of the plastic lion head biting the flexible ring, and flipped out his cellphone, typing and then showing Coulson, 'she was another prisoner they wanted something from. Some powerful relic that would help with their plans. It was just that I saw them kill her, and it was very much like something that happened in Afghanistan.'
"You spoke, earlier. Do you remember?"
Tony shook his head again, 'I don't remember very clearly what happened between Loki saying something was happening, and being in the helicopter on the way here.'
"Loki collapsed, and was hurting and making noise, and you started sobbing, and saying no."
'They froze her to death in the hall in front of my cell.'