Alrighty, kids, we gotta talk before we start this chapter. It's triggering. For anyone who self-harms. I warn you ahead of time, there is some talk of past self-harm. I really, really, really advise you not to read this chapter if you have an issue with that. And to anyone out there who self-harms or deals with depression or is sad -MEGA HUGS- I love you all. Okay? 3

Oh, and I don't own any of the characters, they're property of Marvel, etc., etc..

Tony sighed. Why was it fucking Sunday already? He tugged on the collar of his dress shirt for probably the umpteenth time and glanced at the clock. Dear God, time moved so slow. And really, it wasn't even necessary that he be here for these things, he just stood in a corner and drank himself numb while his father dragged less-than-interesting bureaucrats to shake his hand and listen as Howie lauded his only child's accomplishments. -barf-

His father was headed his way, this time with a frankly mountainous older man who had white hair and a god damn eye patch- eye patch, for fuck's sake- when Tony caught a glimpse of a red head in the crowd. Pepper! His hangover-slash-shitty-life-cure-in-heels. Also, his father's secretary and his own self-proclaimed personal assistant.

The pair of old men were by his side and his father was droning through introductions, but Tony didn't care and wasn't really listening- how could he over the massive amount of booze buzzing in his brain- when something caught his attention.

"Wait. What?" His eyes snapped back to the two men. Brown eyes identical to his own glared at him wrathfully for being rude. Yeah, like he was ever anything but. -snort-

A hand shoved towards him. "Senator Odinson."

Tony almost choked on his own tongue. Frosty's dad. Loki's dad.

"H-hi." He stuttered over the singular syllable. What was wrong with him? Why was this-this boy impacting him so strongly? He was just some college student Tony had bumped into one day and now he was fucking curious. He needed another drink. Maybe something stronger- and anything stronger would have been nearing toxic. Maybe he should see if he could get Loki to go out for- oh. Would ya look at that, he totally tuned out the man talking at him. What a surprise.

"I'm sorry. What did you say?" He asked, again. It felt like his Stark patented smile was going to start oozing actual charm. He wondered for a second if that was actually possible...

'Focus, dammit!'

"You go to the same college as my son, Thor. He's the star quarterback on the football team." The big man flashed a smile that vaguely reminded Tony of the blonde brute.

"Uh. Yeah. Not a big fan of...sports. Hey, isn't Loki Odinson your kid?" He could feel his brown eyebrows pushing low over his likely hazy caramel eyes. His mind was chewing on the Thor comment and how the man hadn't even mentioned Loki. Yep, he was definitely filing that away for further analyzing later.

'Later, Tony. In other words, not now.'

The man scowled- merely for a split second, but Tony's sharp eyes caught it nonetheless- then his face turned to marble. "Yes. He's studying...art. Or literature or something." He looked away, gazing across the crowd. Howard shot Tony a stabbing glare- which Tony ignored, because he's Tony, duh- a warning that he better stop fucking around and impress this man. Shmooze charm up about ten thousand indifferent notches.

"So, how's Thor's quarterback thing going?" Tony smiled- fake, as if anyone would notice- and pretended to listen. It was his gift, the talent of looking very interested while internally his mind was sprinting through the details of some new tech toy he was going to construct.

The man was off like a racehorse on race day. Filling Tony in on all the minor details of his darling eldest.

"Thank you, Pep." He murmured gratefully to the red-head as she led him away from Howard and his cronies. "You're my night in shining armor." He winked as he stumbled along beside her.

"You're slurring. If i waited much longer, you would have puked on someone's Louboutin's." She chided, scowling softly. But there was no real anger or irritation in her blue eyes. It was just an act. The woman adored him, and, like most, he had her wrapped around his finger.

He sniggered. "You shoulda waited 'til I did. That would've livened up this DEAD PARTY!" He yelled at some businessman he was fairly sure worked closely with his father on a frequent basis. Well, he looked familiar anyways.

"Sit. Drink." She shoved him into a chair at the small kitchen table and shoved some water at him.

He looked at the water in his hand and sighed heavily. "What would I do without you, Miss Potts?" There was a sad sobriety to his voice that he hadn't the state of mind to mask. The alcohol was working him over good tonight. Maybe it was just the insane volume he had swallowed in such a short time that made him a little more chatty.

The idea suddenly occurred to his ever-whirring mind that, without Pepper Potts, he would be even more of a royal, bratty, rich wreck than he was now. He would be upchucking on Louboutin's and making a complete ass of himself all over the place. Not to mention, his hangovers would be far more miserable without the woman pouring water and Tylenol down his throat. If it weren't for Pepper, Tony would be very much alone. She was all he had. Despite the plethora of people just ready to murder to be his friend because he was rich and famous. Sometimes the perks weren't worth it.

"Drink." She glared at him sternly.

He smiled, appreciating her knack for avoiding what could potentially have been an awkward moment. "So, there's this guy at school. Loki." He fidgeted. "I just met his dad." He snapped his fingers nervously, a habit he had developed at a very young age.

Pepper sat opposite him at the table, a mug of warm tea in her hands. She raised an eyebrow when he didn't keep talking in his usual everlasting ramble. "Go on."

"Well, okay. His dad didn't even mention him. He brought up his older brother, some quarterback guy. I mean, Thor is okay. He's even...cheery. But, the guy was like favoring Thor- and I know it's none of my business and I don't even have siblings, for fuck's sake- but , that's gotta be rough as hell. His dad and Howard are two of a kind. I wonder if they're working together? Maybe that's why Howie looked ready to stroke when I asked about Loki. Maybe he knows more about Loki. I should ask him. Get a couple scotches in him and-"

"Tony." Pepper sounded exasperated, and he swore Loki sounded just like her when he was looking down his pretty little nose at Tony. Hmm.

"What?" He only sounded a little bit like he wasn't paying the teensiest bit of attention to Pepper. Just a little. Promise.

Really, his mind was still going at about a thousand miles an hour- as usual- and he wasn't even looking at the red-head. The boy he couldn't get his mind off of the past few weeks was making his inebriated mind spin like a carousel on speed. Adderall did nothing to slow down this fast, crazed thought process. Most nights, he couldn't sleep because of it. Nothing entertained him, and he was starting to resort to a frankly alarming lifestyle just to get his brain to screech to a motherfucking halt. More and more he found himself doing things he never would have dreamed of, just because he wanted to have fun, be entertained, feel carefree and happy for once. And people were starting to worry. People like...Pepper.

"Anthony EdwardStark!" She thundered, making him jump and very nearly let out an unmanly squeak. Nearly.

"What!" He glared, feeling a little offended. He wasn't drifting off any more than usual. Shouldn't she have gotten used to this by now?

She sighed and shook her head. "You have to stop with all the drinking. Did you take your medicine today?" Oh, yay. Another question about his medicine. Everyone was a god damn doctor these days.

"I'm not answering that unless you put on a sexy nurse uniform." He smirked when she sighed and shook her head again. What was he if he wasn't the infamously infuriating Tony Stark?

Loki looked at himself in the mirror. He looked...eh. His hair was just not cooperating. And he wasn't even sure what the deal was. It wasn't as if he was seeing anyone special or anything. But recently, he had been looking in the mirror and wanting to cry more often than not. He was hideous. A monster. His hair was bushy and curly and he had gained some weight and there were dark circles under his eyes because he couldn't sleep and his nose was too pointy and-and-and.

He took a deep breath and forced himself to relax. There was no need for him to get all worked up about this. Today was just a normal day. So, he stripped out of his nice shirt and form-fitting jeans and slipped on a loose, comfy sweater he had had for eons and some sweat pants. He was just going to meet Clint for lunch and tutoring. No biggie. Not to mention he halfway hated the man, but who did he not hate these days? When had he turned into this misanthropic, bitter ass?

When he stripped his shirt off, his eyes landed on his wrist- and the dark scar that tainted his snowy skin. His teeth ripped into his bottom lip. He remembered the day that had been carved into his skin, by his own hand. A morning he didn't really want to remember, ever. But remember, he did. And it ran through his mind like a bad home-movie:

"Thor, I swear to the gods, if we don't get home before Odin is awake, I'll kill you before he gets the chance to." Loki swore grumpily. The rum he had drunk really wasn't agreeing with him, and he utterly detested the feeling of not being fully in control of himself. Not to mention, Thor was a giant mass of happiness and awful singing beside him. Was there anything that could put him in a worse mood? Yes. The fact that they were going to get caught because the Universe hated Loki, he just knew it.

"We won't get caught, brother! I've planned this all out perfectly. And if they awake, we can merely tell them we went for a stroll because the morning is nice and the air crisp. There is nothing to worry over." The blonde threw a big-blue-eyed beam of happiness his way. It was reflected off him like he was carrying a shield of bitter despair around with him for just such occasions.

Loki harrumphed and settled deep into his seat. Something bad was going to happen. Well, something bad other than getting nasty smelling alcohol dumped on his perfectly wonderful, cute clothes all night. He picked his shirt up off his stomach, sniffing it delicately. His nose wrinkled. Alcohol. It wreaked of alcohol. And he knew he was being irrationally pissy, but he couldn't help it. He hated parties, and this one had been especially bad since he had stood in a corner all night and downed booze like he actually wanted to be too drunk to walk- not far from the truth, actually- instead of enjoying himself like Thor had. Unfortunately, Thor had been born with a bright patch of sunshiny cheeriness following him around, whereas Loki got a hurricane of depression and misanthropy. The sun coming up over the horizon seemed to smile and flaunt this tidbit of well-known information before him. The scowl on his face got deeper.

They arrived home. Sneaking quietly inside behind his brother, he nearly collided with the teenage oaf before he realized the boy had stopped. More like, frozen. Peeking around one incredibly muscled bicep, he saw why: A very sleep-deprived Odin sitting at the table looking for all the world like he was going to rip their heads off and eat them for breakfast. Loki considered this a likely possibility. Maybe he had drank a little too much at the party. Alcohol really wasn't his thing.

"Good morning, my sons." The man rumbled. Loki cringed. He sounded like he had been sitting at that table all night. The hurricane that was Loki's negative emotions picked up speed.

"Good morning, father." Thor sounded timid. Loki considered this to mean very, very bad things ahead for the two of them. Nothing intimidated Thor. For good reason.

"Hi." Loki murmured, still halfway hiding behind his brother. They were doomed. Doomed. They literally smelled like they had been swimming in booze all night- and really, it hadn't been far from it, Loki would never get the stench out of his clothes.

Then Frigga breezed in, still dressed in her robe and her hair in curlers. Loki felt like crying. Frigga. His mother. The last person on earth he could take being disappointed in him. But she wasn't. She merely smiled and pulled her sons into a hug.

Odin spoke up before his wife had even let the boys go. "I am very disappointed in you-" He started.

Frigga interrupted. "Not now, Odin. I'm going to get you boys some water and Tylenol. Then you're going straight to bed, do you understand? This can be dealt with later." She was coddling them. Odin's red face proved he wasn't having that.

He slammed his hand on the table, making Loki gasp and jump backwards, only to have a protectively comforting arm wrapped tightly around his shoulders. The mountain that was Thor was practically shielding him.

"You, are the troublemaker!" Odin pointed at him. "And you, are the eldest, and as such have a responsibility to set an example. If Loki wanted to take my car, you should have refused to go along and come to alert me." Odin snarled at Thor.

Loki felt something hot and angry boiling inside him. "Why is it always my fault?" He pulled out of Thor's ever-tightening embrace to square up to his father. "Why is it never Thor to blame? What's so terrible about me! All my life I've tried to please and placate you, Odin, but it's never enough! Never! No matter how many straight A's I get, or how hard I try to live up to your stringent standards, it's just not enough to win anything but your 'disappointment' in me." Loki felt his face grow warm with hot outrage. This had not been his idea, never was he the one to suggest they sneak out to parties or do something stupid that ultimately broke something in the house that was 'valuable' -even if Frigga insisted it wasn't a big deal- and yet it was always blamed on him.

"Because that's who you are, Loki. Disappointing and trouble." Odin looked down at him with his one eye. The eye patch was still in place from the night before. "No matter what stern measures I go to, you always insist on acting out. And I will not stand for it anymore." The man shot Frigga a pointed look. "You are both grounded until further notice. I need your phones and computers." He held out his hand for their cellphones.

But Loki was not willing to bend to his tyrannical father's wishes one more time. If he had been, maybe things would have gone he wasn't. "No." It was simply stated, with no rebellious tone. Maybe that's why Odin looked like he was about to fall out in shock.

By nature, Loki had a defiant streak. But he had always held it in check when it came to his parents. He was the good child, quiet, studious. There were no lengths he was unwilling to go to if it pleased them. But this was the last straw. He was not bowing down to anyone, certainly not a man who obviously disliked him strongly.

"No?" Odin looked at him, shock keeping it's stance on his time-weathered face.

"Precisely. It's a two letter word, 'N' and 'O'. It's also negative, the opposite of 'yes', which is a positive word. Need I get out my dictionary for you? You know, the really nice one I won a few years ago in a national spelling bee?" The rebellion rose in his throat like bile. Or maybe he just needed to get rid of all the alcohol raging inside him like angry butterflies set on destroying the lining of his stomach.

Thor and Frigga were staring at him like he had grown two heads. It was a bit comical. What wasn't comical, was Odin's palm slapping across his face. Now, Loki had realized he was treading on dangerous territory by being disrespectful- his father had always been sensitive to defiance and had stamped it down at the very first sign. But to hit his son, that was a length Loki hadn't considered the man would go to. And, it seemed, neither had Odin. Frigga cried out, rushing to pull him into her arms and Thor was glaring at his father like his death was on the near horizons.

Loki tasted blood in his mouth, and licked his lip to feel a gushing cut. For a moment, shock numbed him. He just stood there in his mother's arms, staring at the floor in utter amazement. Then, he pushed out of his mother's arms and ran to his room. He slammed the door shut and locked it, leaning back against it and gasping for air although he had absolutely no reason to be breathless. Hysterically, he realized he had been right: Something bad had happened.

Then the hurricane whipped around him and he sunk to the floor, sobbing almost pitifully. Thor was already banging on his door, begging him to let him in. It probably would have been best to let his older brother in, Thor was always ready to comfort him or let the smaller boy weep on his t-shirt, only to later rub his runny nose on a sleeve. But that was the thing with Thor, he didn't care if his brother used him as a tissue, he wanted to be there for the darker teenager. And he always was, without fail.

But right now, Loki didn't want that. He didn't want to be comforted. He wanted the tears to dry up and he wanted bitter coldness to settle in. He wanted to hate Odin. In his mind, there was no other way to get through the next two years without going insane or throwing back a bottle of pills. So, he did something slightly less fatal. Something a close friend of his had just revealed to him that she did when she was upset.

Still crying hard, he rummaged through his closet, his mind frantic and his heart thumping and he was out of breath again. Finally, he found the object he desired. A hunting knife his brother had given him. He had never used it. Opening it, he ran his thumb across the blade. A small line of crimson oozed slowly when he brought his finger back from the silver blade. He sniffled, entranced. Maybe it would help. If nothing else, maybe it would numb him to the flaming heartache inside his ribcage.

Biting his lip, he placed the blade on his wrist and pushed. Drawing the blade across his wrist, he felt fresh tears from the sting, making the image of deep running red blurry. He did it again, the endorphins flooding his brain. This was stupid, dangerous even. And it made Loki cry harder and cringe with the pain. But Odin wasn't so dominate in his mind any longer.

"LOKI!" His brother's sudden thundering voice made him jump, driving the blade deeper into his wrist. He yelped.

Blood was falling off his wrist and sliding across his fingers in a dramatic display of a lot of blood. It started dripping off his fingers as he ran to grab a towel and press it to his rended skin. But the volley of red wasn't stopping. Thor was about to break the door down. Frigga's soft voice was melding with his. He was scared and getting lightheaded. So he stumbled to the door and threw it open, shoving his wrist at his mother.

She let out a startled gasp and took in his terrified expression all in exactly two seconds. Then she was dragging him to her bathroom and ordering Thor to get his father anywhere but in the house. Thor disappeared and Loki was enveloped in the warm security that his mother was going to make everything okay again. She sat him on the counter and quickly stitched and bandaged his arm like a professional. Then she made him some hot chocolate and bundled him up in bed. She sat with him and let him cry on her shoulder and tell her how sorry he was and how he didn't know what he was doing.

But he wasn't so asleep as to not notice her take the hunting knife from his room with a white-knuckled grip. When she was gone, he broke down. Again. Crying silently to himself because he really did know what he was doing and that frightened him. Sure, he had never meant to cut himself so severely, but did that matter? He looked at the bandaged appendage on the pillow in front of his face. Tears fell further when he admitted to himself and god that he was on the verge of doing something dangerous, intentionally. But how could he tell anyone that? He didn't want to be anymore of a burden...

Loki wiped away a tear and washed his face again to wash away all semblance of emotion. Things were better now that he was living on campus. Away from his father and safe in his loneliness. It was safer, hating people and not really having any friends. He wasn't even as close to Thor anymore. They used to be joined at the hip, but now? Now they only spoke a few times a week and got dinner together whenever their schedules happened to be simultaneously free.

Ah, well. Now was not the time to brood. Loki prided himself on timeliness, and it was time to go teach an annoying teenage boy grammar.

I'm so sorry if this chapter sucks. I wrote it at like 3 a.m.. AND THANK YOU FOR THE FOLLOWS AND REVIEWS 3 I so love seeing what you guys think of this. Like, I super-duper love it and it gives me the high of my life. Reviews are my cocaine.

P.S. Sorry for the lack of Tony/Loki-ness. That shall commence in the next chapter 3

Until next time ;)