A/N: Slight AU for the Battle of New York: Loki comes to regret having dropped Thor off the Helicarrier.

Tony was knocked out of the air by a blast of something – magic, it must be; it didn't feel like any explosion he'd ever felt before – and landed on his back in the rubble. He started to stand, but then someone was dragging him up to pin him hard to a wall.

Loki.

The god looked around and his eyes were bright – manic and mirthful. "Now, why doesn't my brother come save you, I wonder?" he mused, showing teeth in what was almost a smile. "Could it be you're not quite as important to him as you thought? Could it be he's too drunk on the joy of battle to give a damn about what's happening to his allies? How unfortunate for you. I'm sure he'll make a marvelous toast at your funeral."

Tony frowned inside the suit. The spite seemed real, and so did the flippancy. Loki didn't care. "Could it be he's dead?" he snapped back, angry all of a sudden. Point Break there might have been kind of a bully, but still. "Your own brother. Show a little fucking respect, why don't you. Even animals do better than this." Contempt came through the speakers really well, as it turned out.

Loki flinched. "What do you mean," he said fast. Suspicious. All of a sudden the mirth was gone, and the mania grown to portions that scared even Tony Stark. "What do you mean, what are you talking about – where's my brother?"

"You know damn well where your brother is, Rudolph. Six feet under."

"What are you – Don't play games with me, Stark!" Abruptly Loki was shoving, slamming him against the wall, hard enough to crack it. The suit whirred and beeped in protest, and his head hurt, but Tony was a lot more concerned with the glowing batch of rage and crazy that had exploded in front of him. "Lie once more and I will crack you like a lobster and I'll peel the meat out in strands." Loki's voice had gone raw and raspy. "Look at me, man of iron, and answer true. Where. Is. My. Brother?"

Tony swallowed, trying to get rid of the visual. Loki was breathing hard into his face, and the suit beeped at that too, because his breath was freezing, like liquid nitrogen freezing, and it frosted Tony's lenses til he couldn't see. Loki's grip tightened, metal creaked, and at the thought of those lobster-crackers with the serrated jaws Tony shuddered and forced himself to speak up. "You dropped him out of the Helicarrier. In the cage. Remember?"

Loki let go, swallowing hard himself. "He fell to earth. That would not kill him," he said at once, with quiet intensity. As if wishing it could make it true.

For all Tony knew it sometimes could; Loki was a god after all. But this time he knew better. "Have you ever put an egg inside a jar... and shaken it?" He demonstrated the gesture, and Loki's eyes were glued to his gauntlet, wide. "Thor was painted on the walls of that cage. I'm not even sure there's enough of him left for a pyre."

"No – No!" Loki turned away, holding his head. "No, it can't be, not Thor, he never-... of course he's all right, he's always all right..." He spun back and shoved at Tony again, but weaker this time – more desperate. He was pleading. "I have to see him. Take me to him. Take me to my brother."

Tony glanced up to watch Chitauri riders zoom past in packs. "Uh, dude... we're kinda in the middle of a battle here."

"A-? Fuck your battle!" Loki threw his scepter down and gestured to it. "There – battle's over. Close the portal with it, command those things to fall on their own swords, no more battle. Now take me to my brother, Stark! Do it!"

Tony spoke fast into his comm, relaying the situation, calling for backup. He bent to pick up the scepter – carefully, as Loki was still breathing hard over him and looking anything but stable.

Once he had the scepter safely out of the god's reach he proposed: "We go to the top of my tower. We clean up this mess. And then I take you to your brother's body. There's no rush, Loki," he added, a little less harshly. "Thor's long dead. There's nothing you can do about it now. Come on – hang on."

He offered a hand but Loki ignored it, throwing arms around his neck instead. "No. It can't be," he said again, muffled by the suit, as they flew. "It can't. I can help him. I have power like you've never seen. Unlimited power. I do."

"What part of puree are you not understanding?" Tony said, but with the mic off. The last thing he wanted was for Loki to let go. If he lost track of the little asshole now after all this...

He landed on top of the tower, scepter in hand. "Slide it in there," Loki said, looking blank and shell-shocked. "I had it built with an off-switch. In case I changed my mind."

Tony did as he said, pushing the scepter into the force field, fumbling around until the portal beam went away. "And now...?"

"Now hold the scepter and order them all to die. Will it."

Tony stared stupidly.

"Oh, for-... Give me." Loki reached out, impatient.

The others would arrive any second. If Clint shot first and asked questions later, they might lose any chance to sort this out. Tony handed over the scepter, ready to blast him on his ass...

But Loki didn't turn sinister again. Instead, he widened his stance and closed his eyes, and when the tool started glowing he bared his teeth in a snarl. A moment later Chitauri racers began falling out of the sky.

"There," he said, and dropped the scepter. "Now they all long for death, and they're killing themselves to make it happen. Now take me to my brother. I'll go as your prisoner. Take me." He held out his wrists and waited.

He seemed saner now, calmer. Which was almost too bad; sanity was not going to do him any favors once denial wore off and grief really set in. "Is there even any point cuffing you?" Tony asked. "You could always just erase them, right?"

"Yes but it will make your humans feel safer and I want no more delays. There. Take me now." He sparkled with power a moment and then he was cuffed, big dungeon-looking metal shackles at his wrists and ankles.

This was against his better judgment, it really was, but Loki's shock seemed genuine. "Okay. Uh, c'mere." He bent and scooped the god up like a damsel in distress, and Loki lay disturbingly still in his arms. Mouth pressed shut and eyes wet.

The flight was mostly silent. Tony had plenty of commentary about the buildings smoking beneath them and the wounded civilians' screams, but he kept the mic off for all that, because even Tony Stark had his limits of assholery. All he said was: "Hey, Loki. I'm sorry about your brother."

The End. If you want this to be less depressing, just imagine that Tony was lying. He totally might have been, right? *sniffle*

Let me know what you think!