Tony returned to Stark Tower alone. His mansion in Malibu was no longer a home without the god of mischief silently roaming the halls. He let the two gods take Loki's body back to Asgard. He refused to return to the carrier or have anything to do with SHIELD at all for that matter. He was numb. Not even the bottle of scotch he held tightly in his fist did anything to ease the pain.

"My condolences, Sir." Jarvis actually sounded sad, if that was at all possible. The god and the AI had many verbal spars to Loki's delight. And if Tony hadn't known better, he'd say Jarvis enjoyed them too.

"Thanks, Jarvis." Tony muttered walking to the window, carefully and poignantly avoiding the spot that held Loki's imprint after his close encounter with Banner's not so nice side. The marble had been repaired years ago, though he never tread over it.

"Shall I call Mrs. Potts?"

"No, I want to be alone right now." He leaned his forehead against the cool pane of glass. Turning around, he let himself slide down to the floor.

"Sir, Mr. Steve Rogers is at the door. Shall I turn him away?" Jarvis asked quietly.

"Let him in." Steve he could handle right now. He didn't want any sympathy and Steve was always a straight shooter.

Tony lifted the bottle to his lips taking a healthy swig. "Cap." He slurred.

Steve stepped over to him and crouched down in front of him. "Wanna talk about it?"

"Not particularly. " Tony looked at the amber liquid sloshing in the bottle as he took another drink.

Steve sat quietly next to him against the glass, until the silence became stifling. "Tony, what happened?"

Dark brown eyes looked down at the elaborate design on his wrist, rubbing it thoughtfully. It was words written in the language of the gods in an infinity symbol. It was the marking that bound him and Loki together. A vow, if you will. The god sported his own on his left wrist. "He saved me. Shielded me with his magic so I would survive the impact." His voice small, almost inaudible.

Steve was quiet a moment longer, not sure how much he should push. "Where is he now?"

"Asgard. Frigga and Thor took his body back." He gulped the liquor now, relishing the burn in his throat.

"He's dead?"

Tony held his breath. Those were not words he was prepared to hear. Words he did not want to associate with his god. "According to his mother, there is still some hope. Not much though. By all accounts, yeah, he's dead." Tony got up and staggered across the room, swiping a shaking hand across his face. Suddenly he turned and threw the bottle at the nearest wall. "He wasn't supposed to die! He's a fucking god!" Tony grabbed the nearest thing to him, a vase, and launched it through the air. "It was me! It should have been me!" A decorative bowl full of ceramic spheres became his next victim. Angry tears streamed down his face, he continued to pummel the wall and rant about arrogant, asinine, self-serving god's ruining his 'big finale'.

Steve stood by and watched his friend until he ran out of steam and sagged back down to the ground, fingers tangled in his hair as he sobbed loudly. He pulled Tony into a comforting hug and let him cry it out. What else could he do? He knew what it was like to lose someone close to you. For him, it was everyone he had ever known. He knew it was excruciating for his friend. He rarely let anyone get close to him, especially to the extent Loki had. Yet the Trickster had managed to wheedle his way in and became a fixture in all their lives, not just the man of iron.

"I'm sorry Tony, I truly am." Steve was the only one besides Loki he confided in when it came to emotions and how to help him handle his feelings. He was also the first one he had gone to when he started his relationship with the green eyed god. The super soldier was wary but accepting, especially when he saw how happy he was. And it seemed like Tony had made a positive impact on Loki as well. The maniacal plots and vicious pranks were almost nonexistent. Not to say that he still didn't enjoy pulling one over on the team, but now it wasn't laced with cruel intentions.

Tony leaned hard into Steve's shoulder. Steady breathing told him the smaller man had fallen asleep. The blond picked him up and headed down the hall towards Stark's room.

"No."

Steve paused when he heard the faint whisper.

"I can't."

Turning around he went to the couch and laid Tony down pulling the blanket from the arm rest up over him. A single tear escaped from under dark lashes trailing down the side of his nose. Curling in on himself, the thought of sleeping in his bed without Loki was too much.

"Thought you fell asleep?" Tony shook his head slowly. Steve settled into the chair next to him. "Try to get some rest."

Tony woke with a start around four in the morning and unconsciously stumbled towards his room to relieve himself. That was one hell of a dream. Only after he stood in the middle of his room and gazed at the bed did it hit him. It wasn't a dream. He's not coming back. That numb feeling began to take a hold of him once more. Looking around the room, it was exactly how they left it months ago. Nothing out of its place. Loki was particularly meticulous. It irritated Tony to no end. Not that he was a slob, far from it. However it was frustrating when Loki would pick up after him mainly if he was working on something and abandoned it for more than an hour or so. They had gotten into numerous arguments about it disrupting Tony's thought process, particularly when he had to hunt down his own work. It was something the god learned to live with and eventually accepted. Although, when he was feeling peevish he would hide Tony's notes or translate them into another language just to get a rise out of him.

Red swollen eyes swept over the bed, to the dresser, finally resting on the plush arm chair off in one corner. Frowning, his eyes focused on the dark green fabric draped neatly over one side. He did leave it here. Rubbing his fingers over the thick hand tailored material, he marveled at its softness. The last time they were here he was in such a rush to get back to California; Loki had left the cloak behind by accident. Tony had said he would buy him another one. The god shook his head, said that one was special. His mother had the royal tailors make it for him as a gift. He thought it endearing that there were something's the 'god of badassery' would get sentimental over.

Tony held the heavy rich green cloak close to him and inhaled deeply. It still smelled of him. Heading back towards the common area, he wrapped it around his shoulders. A good bit of it trailed behind him dragging on the floor. On Loki, the cape ended inches above the ground. It only served to remind him of their height difference, not that he had ever minded. He pulled it tighter around him. Glancing at Steve to see him slumped in the chair still sleeping, he opened the glass door and stepped out into the nights air. Memories flooded him as the wind chilled him. The cape fluttered around him and he drowns himself in Loki's scent as he pulls it closer still.

"Stark, what are you doing out here you damned fool?" Loki had landed gracefully on the opposite end of the landing and strode towards him quickly looking quite menacing in his battle regalia. "You will catch your death."

It was raining, no that wasn't right. Thor was pissed and created a monstrous storm which only added to the battle below. It was late in the fall and Tony stood out in the down pour watching the team fight on without him. An injury from the last battle kept him in a leg brace for months. He felt like such a gimp and longed to be beside his team mates.

"Lok's we are beyond 'Stark' now remember? If you're gonna continue to crawl into my bed, then you're gonna have to call me by my first name." Tony tried to back away as the very irate god closed the distance between them.

"Silence, you idiotic mortal!" Loki's mouth crashed down upon his full lips, one hand fisted in the back of his dark locks tilting his head up. The hand in his hair disappeared as the kiss softened. Tony felt a heavy weight on his shoulders. Loki pulled back. "I will not have you needlessly endangering your health, Anthony." He watched as the god fastened the cape around his neck.

"Uh-Loki, a little help here!" Came the Widow's voice through the device in his ear.

The god drew away and Tony grabbed ahold of a horn on his helmet bringing him back into a heated kiss. Gripping the genius' chin, he broke the embrace. Emerald green eyes danced as they bore into chocolate brown orbs. "Inside Anthony or I won't touch you for a week."

Tony pouted, "Fine, I'll go. But did you have to threaten to withhold the nookie?"

Loki gave a mischievous smirk. "Yes, because more often than not, I know exactly which head you are thinking with." The god jabbed his finger towards the door and rejoined his companions in battle.

A small smile curled the corners of his mouth. Loki was right, he had gotten sick and the god didn't let him forget about it either. He sighed deeply as he ran his hand over the metal bar on the balconies edge. They had many memories out here on this platform high above the bustling city. Dangerously erotic memories. He could almost feel long lethal fingers wrapping around his wrists and placing them on the bar in front of him while—he couldn't go there.

The aching in his chest was suffocating.

He let out a mournful cry followed by a string of obscenities as he crumbled to the ground. Tony had never felt so strongly, so deeply, so completely before and it was ripping his soul apart. Loki had been gone less than 48 hours and he was an utter disaster. Was this supposed to hurt this much?

"Why didn't you just let me die?! I don't want to feel like this, I can't do it! Do you hear me you son-of-a-bitch? Look what you've done to me. How am I supposed to go the rest of my life like this?" He yelled at the wind until his throat was raw.

Hanging his head in defeat and lost in a sea of sorrow, the man of iron felt two strong arms encircle him and hold him close. He was a pathetic huddled mass clutching the forest green cape to him as if his very life depended on it.

"Tony, why don't you come back inside?" Steve's voice was soft and laced with concern.

"Why, so I could be just as miserable in there?" Tony snorted. "I'd rather not."

"No, because you'll catch your death." The blond countered. "It's freezing out here."

Tony whipped his head around, his eyes wild. "What did you say?"

Steve looked perplexed. "I said you'll catch your death."

Tony searched his friend's eyes, for –something. He didn't find it. "Do me a favor, don't ever say that again." Steve nodded and Tony let him help take him inside.

….Days turned into weeks, weeks into months…still the pain of his loss showed no sign of easing. This was his life now…misery.