Just FYI, I'll be leaving to do research Japan in less than 12 hours, so the update schedule from now until the end of July will not exactly be clockwork.

Thor arrives maybe twenty minutes later, with Rogers and Bruce, in a SHIELD van. Bruce gently wakes Tony, while Thor pushes Loki out of the MRI in a wheelchair, still too weak to stand or walk. Loki appeared to be trying to wrest back control of the wheels, unsuccessfully.

Rogers flanks Tony on the side opposite Banner, Tony looks, at him, looks around, at the various hospital personnel milling around. Rogers doesn't look happy, and he emcertainly/em doesn't look comfortable, but he does look determined. Banner looks at Tony, who shrugs, a little, and lets go.

Banner drops back to Coulson, crossing his arms over his chest, and tucking his hands into his armpits, watching with his eyebrows raised. Tony wobbles, a little, and goes to reach for the counter, to catch himself. He almost falls, his right arm won't extend far enough, but it doesn't matter, because Rogers steps in, in front of him, sliding his arm around the small of his back, pulling him close. Tony grabs Rogers' shirt, the pressure against his back making him gasp in pain.

Rogers hurriedly let go, gripping Tony's hips instead, "I'm sorry. I just didn't want you to fall."

Tony shakes his head, raising his hand to his mouth, biting down.

"Don't you have a thing?"

Tony glares, momentarily, and shakes his head, hand still in his mouth. Coulson didn't exactly blame him.

On the way back to the tower, Banner nudges his arm, from where he was sitting shotgun. He looks over his shoulder, briefly. Loki, exhausted, had fallen asleep against Thor, who had put his arm around his brother's shoulders, and pressed his nose into the smaller god's dark hair. In the seat behind them, Tony was still in pain, had now put the lion's head into his mouth, head resting against Rogers' shoulder. Rogers was gently threading his fingers through Tony's sweaty hair. Tony was pale, but his hand on Roger's shirt wasn't shaking.

When they arrive at the tower, Rogers immediately takes Tony to the living room, to check the damage to his back. Coulson hangs back, with Banner, and helps Thor pull Loki out of the van, and lift him piggyback, to carry him to the guest room Tony had allocated and had made ready.

Banner looks at Coulson, "I wonder how long that'll last."

"Rogers?"

Banner nods, "last time, it was going great, until Pepper found out they were flirting."

"Really? I thought she and Tony broke it off amicably."

"They did, and it wasn't about that. She thought it was nice to see him so happy. She just mentioned that it might be hard, dealing with the publicity, and Steve panicked."

Coulson walks down into the lab, the next day, and sighs, at what he finds. Clint, reading. Tony and Loki asleep at a desk, one side of a conversation scribbled on various scraps of paper. Apparently, Tony has the information he needs to build the portal. He just doesn't think Loki is strong enough to send them anywhere without seriously harming himself.

Coulson walks over to Clint, and perches on the end of the couch, "how long have they been asleep?"

"About three hours."

"Why didn't you wake them up?"

"You mean you couldn't hear them arguing from upstairs?"

"Not Tony, anyway."

Clint shrugs, "they argued themselves to sleep. In about fifteen minutes. They obviously needed the rest."

"We're in a bit of a hurry."

Clint just shrugs, again.

Coulson stands in front of Fury and Hill, recounting the previous weeks. Hill just looks concerned. Fury looks concerned, by the more detailed explanation of the broad strokes Coulson had reported as they happened, but he also gets this weird look on his face, when Coulson describes the interpersonal relations starting to develop-not just Tony and Rogers, but the team in general, and even Loki.

"Do you think Stark is stable enough to be allowed to continue working?" asks Hill, sighing.

"As has often been the case, we need him regardless."

"Answer the question, Coulson," orders Fury, curiously.

"He...is definitely very traumatized. But also very determined."

"And? You can be as determined as you want, and still not be capable," remarks Hill.

"With all due respect? This is Tony Stark. I don't think there's much he isn't capable of."

She shakes her head, "has he talked yet?"

"That isn't the point. He's traumatized; he's not incapable, and he's not unstable."

"He can be as capable as you say, and still not be reliable, if he's too messed up."

"Of all the times you decide to question his reliability, it's when he hasn't had a drink in seven months, tried to bite through his own tongue to keep the universe safe, and when he wasn't allowed to, resisted until he was released, and immediately started working despite the damage he suffered, which would have incapacitated any other man I know? I'm not going to say with all due respect, because it isn't true, Assistant Director. Stark's weakness has never been coming through in a time of crisis, it's keeping himself together between them. And despite all that's happened, he's still together. He hasn't had a drink, he hasn't done one stupid thing. He's worked, and sought comfort from his friends, and worked some more. He's handled everything that's happened in a mature, stable way, and I have every reason to believe he will continue to do so. And no reason to believe he will fail, Assistant Director, as much as you seem to think that he will."

Hill opened her mouth, but Fury spoke before her, "do we need to have the Captain America chat again?"

"No, Director. This is an objective assessment. The Assistant Director is just wrong."

With that, he turns, and leaves.

"He never used to be like that, before."

"Before we made him live in a safe house in Nebraska for a year and hide that he was alive from his family and friends? You think he cared more about offending us before that? I would be shocked."

Coulson glances back, as he opens the door, just in time to see Hill roll her eyes. Apparently he still has a job.

Walking into the workshop, Coulson has to duck under a four foot high ceiling of cables as big around as his arm, walking at a crouch, until they open up, and he straightens. Tony and Banner are working together at a console, where many of the wires seem to be attached, while Clint and Natasha peer at a diagram, directing Thor and Rogers in weaving the cables into an ever more complicated pattern. Loki is asleep again, this time, under the wire ceiling, on Tony's couch. It looks like someone put him there, after he fell asleep somewhere else.

Coulson ducks again, and comes up by Tony and Banner, "is this going to be the portal?"

Tony nods, and types, 'it's not going to be perfect, but it would take decades to mirror a neural structure accurately. This is just a best approximation, which should be close enough to work. The only thing is, it's not going to be efficient, and I don't know if that power leakage will be too much for Loki to compensate for, even if he weren't...' Tony gestures at the god, completely insensate and exhausted.

Three days before they leave, Coulson is helping Tony hold part of his suit, while adjusting the range of motion on his right shoulder, since the normal range will cause the hydraulics to push his arm in ways that it just won't move, at this point. Rogers pushes through the door, "Tony, Lieutenant Colonel Rhodes is on the phone, he called me to check if you were going to some benefit, you aren't answering your calls."

Tony gives him a look-exactly how is he supposed to answer a phone call-and nods.

Rogers covers the mic, "you are?"

Tony nods, again, and goes back to tightening the bolt.

"Do you think that's a good idea?"

Tony huffs a sigh, and goes to the work table, pushing bolts and screws off a touch screen keyboard, typing, the computer generated voice awkward and mechanical, 'it's a charity ball. I show up, stand next to some pretty girl, smile, dance one dance, and then leave. It's just to show I'm in fact not dead, since I haven't been seen in public in a month and a half, so the company stock doesn't take a plunge.'

"What pretty girl?"

'I don't know, Pepper said she invited someone. Though maybe I could convince Natasha to have Natalie make an appearance, instead.'

"Could I go?"

'I mean, sure, though I don't see why you'd want to.'

"Maybe I don't want you to go stand next to a pretty girl."

'I literally won't even speak to her. My guess is she's probably a business friend of Rhody or Pepper's, who also didn't have anyone to show up with.'

"Maybe you do have someone to show up with."

'I doubt Natasha would actually go for that.'

"No, Tony. That's not what I'm saying."

'Steve, you won't stand next to me in front of Coulson.'

"I know I've been horrible. I'm sorry."

'Not horrible. But first the hospital, and now this...isn't very normal for you. What's up?'

"I read something Bruce left up on his computer, in the kitchen. It was about a kid, who got death threats, and beat up, and...he committed suicide. He was fourteen, and he'd been braver than I have been. He was bullied, and it killed him. I don't like bullies, Tony. And I don't like realizing I've been a coward."

A voice comes, muffled, over the phone, and Rogers turns pink, putting it to his ear, "uh, he's coming."

Coulson makes a mental note to both buy dinner for, and never underestimate, Dr. Banner.

The portal is almost ready, when Rogers shows up to drag Tony from the darkened workshop-nobody turned the lights on when it got dark out, since Loki was still sleeping, and the arc reactor lit what Tony was working on perfectly well. The network of cables, each connection point a glowing light, is completed, the red lights and grey tubes looking like a ghostly, industrial spiderweb hung with beads of red water. Tony stands up, between two of the cables, grins, oil smudged across his forehead and cheek, and ducks back down, to come up again beside Rogers.

Rogers takes a washcloth, and, one hand cupping the back of Tony's head, gently wipes the smeared grime away, both of them illuminated with faint red light, and brighter blue.

Coulson looks back down at his magazine. He's driving and escorting them, but that doesn't mean they don't deserve a moment or two of private mushiness, on the eve of war.