The sky had been torn open.

Tony had seen a lot of magic in the past few years, but this was enough to make him freeze and stare in horrified fascination. The sight was both terrifying and – he couldn't bring himself to call it beautiful, this was his former home at stake after all, so he settled on impressive.

That was, of course, until the aliens started pouring through. From then on, it was most definitely more terrifying than anything else, making him acutely aware that he was standing on top of Stane fucking Tower, shirtless and without any sort of shelter, about to face an invasion. Right.

"Loki," he said, voice rising in alarm, "if you're going to do something about this, right now seems like a good time to start. And I'm gonna need my armour."

The prince seemed to have to tear his eyes away from the sight just as Tony had and glanced first at the inventor, then at the sceptre that laid discarded on the concrete ground of the roof. "There is a way to put an end to this," he said, slowly, nodding towards Selvig. The scientist was watching the spectacle with wide eyes. "I had him build in a fail-safe. We can stop this, for now. But Thanos..." A poorly suppressed shudder ran through him at the name. "...Thanos is still going to come for Midgard if we can't stop him here. It will simply take him longer."

"But it'll give us time, yeah?" Tony gestured upwards at the swarm of Chitauri, which was getting uncomfortably close. "I'll take the risk of repeating myself, but whatever you plan on doing, I suggest you do it right now!"

Loki swallowed, then nodded. He stepped closer to Tony, pulled the engineer in with an arm around his shoulders and a moment later, the world dissolved around them with a sensation that was both achingly familiar and still as unsettling as the first time the prince had teleported them.

Well, maybe not that bad. The first time had involved crossing an uncomfortably large distance.

Still, Tony clutched at Loki's sides purely out of reflex and closed his eyes tightly, his breath leaving him in a rush. In response, Loki's arm tightened around him and pulled him flush against the god's chest. The whole process was over after the span of a few quick heartbeats, but when the world came back into focus around them, Tony was hesitant to step away as he inhaled with a shallow gasp.

Loki smelled of blood and sweat and metal; underneath that, however, there was a faint trace of that familiar scent of herbs, leather and something lighter, reminding Tony of a winter morning, which he had always identified as Loki.

Or maybe that was just wishful thinking.

He swallowed, his forehead pressed against the cool leather covering Loki's collar bone, and took another breath, deeper this time, before he took a slow, reluctant step back. Granted, it was quite the small step, but at least he wasn't pressed up against the prince anymore.

Instead, he now found himself looking up at Loki, which, in retrospect, might even be worse because he had met the other's green eyes (and what a relief it was to see them in that colour) and didn't have it in him to look away. Not just yet. He would, in a moment.

The prince's arm had slipped from around his shoulders when he had stepped back, but his hand was still resting there, his thumb stroking absently over the juncture of neck and shoulder, sending a shiver down Tony's spine. His fingers flexed on the leather of Loki's armour, still resting on the god's waist, and Tony swallowed with a deep breath.

Screw it.

He stepped closer again, at the same time pulling Loki in, and rose up on his tip-toes to kiss him, because he needed it, needed–

Suddenly, the blaring of an alarm broke the silence, deafening after the stillness from before. Tony jumped in shock and Loki, who had been leaning down, he was sure of it, straightened abruptly as he stepped back to look around warily.

For the first time, Tony also cast a look around wherever Loki had brought them and raised his eyebrows. He cleared his throat, trying to sound unaffected, and remarked with as much casualness as he could manage: "Now, this is handy. Care to watch the door while I suit up?"

Loki looked like he was fighting the urge to clear his throat as well as his eyes flickered over to the entrance of the room. "Not at all," he replied.

Goddamn fucking hell, Tony cursed silently, glaring at the ceiling. Loki had, very usefully, brought them to the Helicarrier – the room he had left his armour in, no less. That was good. That was very good. But for heaven's sake, couldn't they have had like, ten more seconds before the security systems somehow picked up their presence? Was that so much to ask for?

"How'd you even know the suit would be here?" he asked, trying for casual, while he hurried toward the armour. Loki's tunic was placed neatly next to it and Tony picked it up, because he sure as hell wasn't going to leave it here.

"You placed wards on your armour," Loki answered. "Runes. On Asgard, there are many of those energies, I probably would not have been able to detect them, but here, they are unique. I was able to– is that my–?"

Tony pulled the oversized, dark green tunic with the golden embroidery over his head and pushed the slightly too long sleeves up as he turned toward Loki. He stubbornly fought against the blush threatening to creep up on his cheeks and pointed a finger at the prince, interrupting him: "Don't say it. Seriously. You didn't see anything." He made a sweeping motion in the air, holding up two fingers. "This isn't the tunic you're looking for."

Loki looked... For lack of another word, Loki looked happy. Tony didn't give him any credit for his poor attempt to conceal it, because there was a smile very obviously twitching around the corners of his mouth even as he pursed his lips, and it took him a few seconds to tear his eyes away from the tunic to look back up at Tony. He opened his mouth to say something.

"Not. A. Word," Tony cut him off before he was able to voice whatever comment he had come up with. The mischievous, bright sparkle in the god's green eyes as he obediently pressed his lips together, obviously fighting a smile, was so much like the old him it hurt, so the inventor quickly turned toward the suit (after all, there were still some SHIELD minions to worry about) and worked at getting into it.

Now that he had technology at his service again, he could think of about a thousand ways to make that process quicker and smoother. Alas, now was really not the time.

"So," he said, while fumbling with the armour, "when you said you'd installed a fail-safe for the portal device of doom or whatever, why didn't we just do that and close the portal right there?"

"I need the sceptre for it," Loki explained, watching with curious interest. "And I would rather not be near the mind gem right now."

"Mind gem meaning the glowy blue thing at the tip?" Tony guessed.

"Exactly," the prince nodded. Tony wasn't sure, but he thought Loki looked a little pale. "Th– he managed to get control over me by getting me to accept it. I am not sure what the effect would be if I were to touch it now." He hesitated. "I would rather not find out."

"I could've done it," the inventor offered carefully. "After all, it looks like I'm magic-proof – what the hell was that, anyway? Not that I'm complaining or anything. But it was slightly... you know. Random. Seemed a little easy." Call him paranoid, but that had gone over just a little too smoothly, hadn't it?

Loki took a step closer, gesturing toward the armour where the reactor was. "You do remember that I made this, don't you? While you were..." He made a short, aborted motion with his hand and Tony briefly thought of pain, his body burning and all the damn apple's, no, Loki's fault, and quickly nodded. Yeah, he remembered alright. The prince nodded, his eyes darting away from Tony's closed-off expression, and continued: "Well, I don't know how you do it with your mortal technology, but as you are aware, I used my magic to craft your element, which left a residue. Apparently, the untainted magic didn't mix well with mine after... well."

Tony narrowed his eyes at Loki's sudden uncomfortable tone, the way he had trailed off and was now glancing at the door. His magic had always been the purest part of the prince, the one he was most proud of, so what was this now?

"Loki?" he asked carefully, taking a step closer that sounded painfully loud with the armour on. "What has he done to you?"

The mage shifted his weight on his feet just as the alarm turned off, leaving Tony's ears ringing slightly with the sudden, deafening silence. Loki shook his head and opened his mouth, but the door slammed open before he had the chance to actually say anything.

Loki was reaching out for him, presumably to zap them away again, but Tony held up his hand in a sudden stroke of genius (or possibly madness) and called out: "Wait. Hold on. Don't shoot. We're here to help." The brief glance Loki shot him clearly said we are?, but the engineer decided to ignore that for now.

"Is that why you're wearing the suit, Mr Stark?" Fury drawled, stepping through between the agents kneeling next to the entrance with his hands folded behind his back, leather coat swinging around his legs. He did know how to make an entrance, Tony could give him that much.

"Nah," he replied, "that's just because it makes me look taller." He hadn't closed the faceplate, so he gave the director a broad smile with more teeth on display than strictly necessary. "I'm insecure like that. Now, change of topic, no time, you have an awful lot of screens up there in the main room. Any of those pick up New York yet?"

Fury's jaw set almost imperceptibly. One of his hands lifted from behind his back and the agents around him shifted, tensed. "If you came here to gloat, Stark..."

"Whoa, hold on. C'mon, Nick, we're all friends here." Tony held up his hands placatingly. On second thought, that was probably not as reassuring as he had imagined, what with the repulsors placed in the middle of his palms, so he dropped them again fairly quickly and went on: "This is my planet, Fury. So I've been abroad for a while, yeah, but just what the hell do you think I'm planning to do to it?"

"I think you're compromised," the director responded, jerking his chin at Loki, who had so far stayed out of the whole conversation. He was watching the exchange warily, but left the field to Tony for now.

The inventor sighed heavily and shifted his weight on his feet, trying not to let his nervousness show. "Look, I don't have time for this," he said. "We – that is, Loki, Loki knows how to stop or at least delay this. We're here to help, alright? So let us help, for Norns' – I mean, for Christ's sake." Aesir and their stupid oaths. He had spent way too much time up there. Thankfully, nobody deemed his little slip-up important enough to comment on, so he continued: "We can have all sorts of meaningful discussions afterwards, the operative word here being after. Come on, you want to save this planet as much as I do. Let us help."

Fury did not look happy with that. Not at all. In fact, Tony thought he might break a tooth or something if he clenched his jaw any harder. But from what he had seen of the man so far, the director might be proud (rightfully so, maybe) and paranoid (that probably came with the job), however, he wasn't stupid. He wouldn't waste two assets like them.

That was what Tony was counting on, at least.

"Fine," Fury ground out after a few endless seconds. It sounded like it caused him physical pain, but the engineer could feel himself relax inside the suit. "But I'm keeping an eye on you two."

Tony bit his lip to keep from asking whether that had been a pun, although Fury was focussing more on Loki than on Tony while he spoke. Clever man. Loki did sneaky and deceptive a lot better than Tony – he'd had some years' worth of experience, after all.

Still, the engineer saluted with mock-enthusiasm and exclaimed: "Sir, yes, sir! Now, where's the rest of your team? Can you get them on the line somehow? We need to make a decision, and I'd prefer if we did it quickly."

Fury watched him out of narrowed eyes – pardon, one narrowed eye – for another second, then turned on his heel and barked at his agents to "move, we don't have all day". Tony flashed Loki a smile that was both triumphant and reassuring, all the while making a mental note to continue their previously interrupted conversation. For now, they were busy.

Fury equipped them both with earpieces connected to the team, which understandably led to some initial confusion. The first reaction to Loki's sceptical "do these work?" was a startled "what the fuck?!", loud enough to make the inventor jump, from a voice he didn't recognise. Barton, presumably. Now this was going to be fun.

"Hi everybody," Tony said brightly. "No shouting please, or screaming, autographs are scheduled for later, let's just all be professionals for a moment here, yeah?" He attempted to lean back against the wall casually, but was hindered by the suit. He might be really dexterous up in the air, but walking around in it was a pain in the ass.

"What the fuck's he doing on the line?" Barton demanded again.

Tony wasn't quite sure where to place his accent, but he was guessing Iowa. As sorry as he felt for the guy, they didn't have time for this right now. "Helping," he answered sharply, just as Rogers scolded the... archer, was it?... for swearing on the comms. Oh God, this was going to be a mess. "Now, can we please save all the bitching for when we dealt with the aliens on our asses, because this is really not a good time, thank you."

There was a moment of quiet arguing and angry muttering over the earpiece before someone shushed the others and after a few seconds, Rogers spoke up: "We're listening." He didn't sound particularly happy, but he did seem professional, so that was something.

"Good. Lokes, that's your cue." Tony waved a hand at the prince, who was leaning against the conference table on the Helicarrier's bridge, looking for all the world as though the hostile stares that met him from all around didn't bother him.

Still, he sounded tense and distant again – well, businesslike – when he spoke into the comm: "I abandoned the sceptre on Stane Tower. With its help, you will be able to close the portal, but I do not want to risk touching it again. Not the Hawk, either. Let someone who has not been in contact with it handle this."

"So that leaves me and the Captain," Romanov muttered.

Tony raised his eyebrows, despite the fact that she wouldn't be able to see him. "What about Banner?" he asked.

"First of all, he touched it while you were busy busting out the prisoner, not sure if that counts," she replied with an acidic quality to her voice, "and secondly, he's not here."

"Not here? What do you mean, not here?" the inventor demanded, frowning. "I thought he was part of the team." He glanced around on the bridge, in case he had missed the small, curly-haired scientist slouching in some corner of the room.

"Oh, you don't know?" Barton asked almost gleefully. "How's that? Don't say your buddy hasn't told you." Tony narrowed his eyes at Loki silently and the god pursed his lips dismally, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "He hasn't, has he?" the archer crowed. "That's funny, 'cause even I know by now. And I got knocked over the head a few times."

"Really? I wouldn't have been able to tell," Tony snipped out of reflex.

"Knock it off, the both of you," Rogers cut in. Funny how he did that after Tony had said something while Barton had been allowed to break radio silence for his absolutely non-productive blabbering. "Doctor Banner lost control after coming into contact with the sceptre, which was how Loki managed to stage his escape," he summarised curtly.

Tony frowned harder. "That's not how it –"

"That's enough now, Anthony," the prince interrupted. "If you could concentrate, gentlemen." There was a cough from the comms. "And lady Romanov, of course." Loki ignored the way that Tony clenched his jaw and glared (because seriously, he'd had enough of getting told to shut up from anybody and Loki of all people should know that) in favour of staring off into the distance, his arms still crossed in front of his chest and his brows furrowed. Very artfully dramatic. Very much unhelpful, too. "Where are you right now?" he asked. "How long until you reach the city? We will join you there."

"Okay, now hold on for a second, that's not how it works," Tony snapped. "Loki, can I talk to you for a moment?" The prince turned, eyebrows raised with an impatient expression on his face and Tony narrowed his eyes at him. "You don't get to tell me to shut up, so don't even try," he told the god, even though it made his stomach twist with uneasiness due to the deeply ingrained knowledge that disrespect wouldn't do him any good combating with the knowledge that Loki wouldn't do anything to him. Probably. Taking a quick, deep breath, he went on: "We're not gonna wait 'til they're in New York, are we?"

Loki cocked his head to one side slightly, a sceptical expression on his face. "As I just said," he answered slowly, "neither you nor me ought to touch the sceptre unless we want to risk Thanos –"

The inventor shook his head, cutting him off. "No, no, no, that's not what I'm talking about. I mean that you unleashed a fucking army on New York, regardless of the fact that it wasn't you who was sitting in the driver's seat at the time, and you're just gonna sit here and wait for them to do your dirty work?"

The prince pursed his lips, pushing away from the table to take a step closer, green eyes narrowed. "What exactly is it you are saying?" he inquired, his voice lowered. He looked a hair's breadth away from furious. Maybe he just wasn't used to such insolent tones from Tony.

"I'm saying," he shot back, "that I'm not gonna be sitting on my ass and waiting for them to arrive. You could either just grab one of them and teleport there..."

"Yeah, I am so not comfortable with that," Barton mumbled over the comms.

Tony ignored the interruption. "...or, at the very least, you and I get there and do some damage control because that place is a city full of unsuspecting people who are about to get butchered if somebody doesn't do something." He took a mechanical, clanking step closer and jabbed a finger at Loki. His voice had risen to a yell and he was honestly glad that the armour made up for some of the height difference between them so he wouldn't have to stare up at Loki during this. "So what I'm saying is get me the hell out of here so I can do something 'cause I'm sure as fuck not about to watch this go down without doing something."

For a moment, Loki's expression was caught at an unreadable state between incredulity and anger, but then he averted his eyes and his stance relaxed. Tony felt his shoulders sagging with relief in response; he might have gotten better at this, but he still wasn't the least bit comfortable with challenging the prince. Especially not now when he was having a hard time trusting him anyway. But he knew Loki, or at least hoped that he did, a little, and letting hundreds of people die in his name really wasn't his style.

"Fine," the prince conceded. "We shall meet your Avengers in New York, then." He didn't look happy with it, but he hadn't ripped Tony's head off, either, so there was that.

"They're not my Avengers," Tony muttered even as Loki stepped closer, placing a hand on his shoulder to transport them. "We just happen to play for the same team. Which is the same one you're playing for, by the way, so they'd be your Avengers, too."

"Yeah, no," Barton interjected over the comm.

"Oh, shut up, Legolas," Tony told him, which was met with a snort just as they vanished from the Helicarrier's bridge. There was a burst of static from the comms as they re-emerged on top of Stane Tower and as soon as it had let up, Tony told the team: "We're in New York now, we're gonna try and do some damage control. The portal is over Stane Tower and the sceptre..."

He trailed off, looking around the roof. The device was still there, but Selvig was gone and he couldn't spot the sceptre.

"Son of a bitch," he whispered and saw Loki's eyes widen when the god realised it, too. "The sceptre's gone. Somebody took the sceptre."