"The night is my friend, I blend in with the best,
The vampires, the crooks, the felons and the rest,
Now we can pretend that we really care less,
And act like we love what we really detest."
Near Life Experience, Lifehouse.

It was mid-afternoon when Tony finally emerged from his bedroom.

He found Thor and Steve at the kitchen table. He sat with them and rested his head on the table, groaning.

"You okay there, bud?" Steve asked, sounding amused.

"No," Tony replied, simply. He heard someone bustling about and a cup of coffee was placed in front of him.

"There. That should help," Thor told him.

"You use coffee as an answer to everything," Tony sighed, rubbing between his eyebrows.

"It is a most wonderful thing," Thor insisted. "I must take some back to Asgard next time I am there. I'm surely it will be as widely revered there as it is here."

"Yeah, well, don't like Starbucks take over your planet too, bud," Tony said, raising one eyebrow. "Speaking of creeps in green taking over the planet, have you seen your brother today?"

"He was in the library this morning. Whether he is still there or not, I don't know," Thor frowned. "I do not understand how he can wile away such hours simply with books."

"Neither do I, pal. But I think its best we leave him too it, don't you?" Tony picked up his mug and headed towards the library, with a brief goodbye to Thor and Steve.

He enjoyed to watch Loki read. He knew that Loki had once told Natasha that very few people could sneak up on him, but it wasn't nearly as hard when he was absorbed in a book. Often Tony would get close behind the taller man, and jab his fingers into the lean sides, before Loki knew he'd even been approaching. He expected to see the God as he usually did; sitting at a table or even on the floor, the area around him littered with diagrams and notes and different books. He'd usually look interested or maddened or confused or excited, but no matter how he felt about the book, one emotion was always obvious on his face – happiness.

Tony was surprised – and not exactly pleasantly either.

He found Loki in the library, cross-legged on the floor, a heavy book open in his lap. Nothing strange there. But he wasn't avidly scribbling notes or copying out diagrams. He had his head bent down, his black hair a curtain, completely obscuring his face from view. He was tracing the words from the book in front of him, his fingers shaking. Tony swallowed, shocked.

"Uh… Lo? You okay, hon?" he asked, gently.

"I'm fine," Loki's voice was deadpan, and he didn't look up at Tony.

"You sure?" Tony knelt in front of him. "What's that you're reading?"

It was a book on Norse mythology. Tony had been given it by his grandmother on one summer vacation to stay with her when he was very young. He'd looked at it once or twice, but hadn't had much interest in the bright pictures or the old-fashioned words. It was too much story and not enough facts and figures for him. Out of curiosity, he'd once asked Thor how true the book was, and Thor had told him simply that Midgardian myths were greatly exaggerated.

But Loki seemed to be captivated by what he was reading. He stroked the picture; a painting of a wolf. It wasn't threatening, not at all an aggressive picture. Rather, there was a placid beauty to the animal, something calming in the blackness of its fur, the greenness of its eyes. Black. Green. Colours that had become all too familiar to Tony. He swallowed, reading the first line of the text. "Nari, son of the trickster, Loki..."

Tony had heard about Loki's children, six of them, as far as he knew. Before, he'd always assumed they fell into the 'greatly exaggerated' category. It was hard to think of someone like Loki fathering any child, not least world-crushing serpents and man-eating wolves. But the expression on Loki's face said different.

"He's beautiful," Tony said, in an attempt at comforting the slender man. Loki smiled.

"This painting really doesn't do him justice," he said, softly. "But he was quite something to look at, wasn't he?"

"W-was?" Tony repeated. Loki nodded once, offering no words in way of reply. "I'm so sorry, sweetie. What… what happened?"

"I don't wish to discuss it," Loki replied simply.

"That's okay. We don't have to talk about it if you don't want to," Tony said, somewhat awkwardly. He wasn't used to being someone's comforter. He put a hand on Loki's arm and Loki looked up, smiling gently, but with wet eyes. "Come here." Tony put his arms around the thin man and stroked his hair gently.

He didn't know what to say to comfort Loki. He'd had to comfort a god before, that was true, but that was when Steve thought it would be a good idea to let Thor watch Bambi and the weeping blonde couldn't be consoled, nor convinced that the deer wasn't real, for two and a half hours. But the death of a child was on a whole different level to the death of an animated animal. Tony had no words for Loki, and so he simply sat, cradling the raven-haired god in the crook of his elbow, stroking his hair and delivering frequent kisses to his forehead and now-damp cheeks.

After about twenty minutes, Loki eased himself out of Tony's grip and slotted the book back onto the shelf. He headed for the door and Tony felt confused.

"Where are you going?" he asked the tall man.

"I wish to be alone, Anthony," Loki's voice was tight. "Do not follow me."

And he swept out of the room and disappeared. Tony went upstairs only when he was sure that Loki was gone. He found Thor and Steve and Clive playing poker in the living room.

"Hey," Barton grinned at him. "Come on, we'll deal you in."

"What? Oh. Um. No, you're okay," Tony shook his head.

"What's up? You never turn down a game of poker," Steve frowned.

"I uh. I got a headache," Tony swallowed. "If Lo comes looking for me, tell him I went to bed early, yeah?"

"Sure," Steve said. Thor was quiet. He just watched Stark go up to bed, contemplating quietly.

Loki sat on a bench in Central Park, the darkness shrouding him in the most comforting way. It was quiet in this part of the park at night, and that was good. Loki didn't want to be bothered by anyone, inside of Stark Towers or out. He wanted to be alone for a while.

After a short while of sitting where he was, a small figure occupied the bench next to him.

"Hi," a child's voice said. Loki didn't respond. "Are you okay, mister?"

"I'm fine," it was an attempt to make the little girl leave, but it was in vain. She watched him, her head on one side.

"How come you're not cold? It's winter," she asked. He just smirked at the impossibility of her ever understanding. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Well you just have," Loki sniffed. The little girl bit her lip.

"Are you Loki? Like Thor's brother?" she said. He nodded, expecting that to make her leave. But it didn't. "How come you're so sad?"

"I'm not sad," it was a shocked and rushed response that was meant to be said inside his head.

"Yeah, you are. You have sad eyes," she said. He didn't know what to say. So he stayed quiet. So did she for a long time. Then she sighed. "I guess you don't have to tell me if you don't want to. But you shouldn't be sad. Nobody should ever be sad. My mommy said that you're a bad person, but I guess even bad people shouldn't be sad. I don't think you're a bad person. I think you're just a good person who's done some bad things." There was another pause. "I guess I should go now. Don't be sad any more." She leaned over to kiss his cheek, before hopping to her feet and dashing off.

It was way past midnight when Loki finally came in and climbed into bed with Tony. Neither man said anything to the other, only lay in each other's arms until they each fell into a troubled sleep.