A/N: A little forewarning/ apology. It's late (and yes, I'm aware that's a pretty popular excuse from me), and I'm sitting here staring at the screen with this "WUT" look on my face because the tense I'm writing in is kinda screwy. I tried to change it, then went like "...wait...", then pretty much had a "fuck it allllll" moment and decided that if the tense switches, it switches. So, if it's a zig-zag terrible mess of a fucking chapter tense-wise (and any other -wise there ever was) I do sincerely apologize. Also, there's mentions of the usual. Self-harm, anorexia, lots of abuse (let's face it, that's become a pretty big part of this fanfic. I never intended for that to happen. Don't shoot me, please), and possibly other sad things I've forgotten since it's 4:30 am. Legit, everything that's usually a warning. All the stuff you can think of. Even mention of possible rape. DO NOT GO ANY FURTHER WITHOUT ACKNOWLEDGING THIS.
Otherwise, enjoy this clusterfuck of extreme angst. They say, when you read this chapter, you can still hear my heart breaking.
Oh, look. My humor blows. Yay.
On to the show :).
xoxox
The man regarded him coldly. "And I also promise you, that if you refuse to move, I wont be paying your tuition any longer."
Loki's blood started to boil. But for once, he was hellbent on staying strong, looking just as neutral and heartless as the man in front of him. "Tell me the truth, Odin. Did I ever matter to you? Did you ever consider me your son? Was I ever, just once, good enough for you?" His voice was about as warm as an Arctic breeze. He couldn't have explained the plethora of ugly feelings raging through him like a goddamn forest fire. Because the world was spinning so fast, he couldn't catch his breath or think clearly or even stay steady on his feet.
It had always been this way. Everything that Loki cherished as his mental stability and sanity went flying apart like fireworks every time Odin even looked at him. He was suddenly a little kid again, getting yelled at for breaking that pretty vase his mother had kept filled with roses. The petals were red and wet on the floor like blood, oozing with the water across the floor and broken shards of sharp porcelain. Odin was big and intimidating and his voice was making Loki shake and his throat burn as he tried and tried not to cry. He was trying so hard! He wanted so badly to make his father like him! Why was he so awful? Why was he so spiteful and mean? Why was he just a shitty excuse for a son? Why couldn't he be more like Thor? Odin liked him so much, but he seemed to hate Loki. It broke his young heart, the first of many times when he would retreat to the library to stitch his wounds and find a false smile to wear amongst those musty, years-worn pages.
A flinty blue eye regarded him haughtily. "Not for a second." Then, the aged, white-haired senator did something that is about the equivalent of a fire-heated brand against Loki's flesh. He smiled. Big and toothy and blindingly brilliant.
Loki wasn't sure if it was the words or the smile that did it, but finally, he completely lost it. "So, I was just nothing to you? Just a newspaper article and a reelection? Is that it? A way to placate your wife, to get someone off your back? What was I to you, huh? A flea? A tick? Something you could flick away like it was nothing, just an annoying gnat in your face? You've stepped on me over and over, squashing me like some bug that disgusted you. So what is it, Odin? Why adopt the pauper and invite him into your home? Hmm?" His voice sounded ugly and raspy and everything Loki hated about himself. All the ugly parts of Loki Odinson, surfacing from their hiding places within him, bubbling up from somewhere deep and dark below his hopes and dreams and love. And there were so many more than he realized- or allowed himself to realize, rather. "Tell me!" His voice hurt deep in his chest when it came out, strangled by the tears turning his eyes glassy and clogging his throat with all the tiny pieces of his heart.
Odin smirked. "So desperate to know, hmm?" You motherfucking bas- "You are the son of Laufey Laufeyson. The senator from Ohio." Loki's brow furrowed in that terrible kind of confusion that makes your heart twist on itself and a hot brick appear, heavy and gloomy, in your stomach. "He had an affair with a street-whore. You, you are the bastard son he didn't want." Odin's voice was smug, his eye gleaming with what seemed like sordid satisfaction. "He begged me to take you, knowing Frigga wanted another child. Your biological mother was in his hometown in Norway. You were a peace offering." Loki felt his lungs collapse in on themselves, along with his entire world. Again. How many times would he have to see through the cracks in his soul that the truth had been there all along?Of course. Of course he was just something cast-aside, just a discarded conception in a dark, smoky room, just a piece of another's corruption and vile lust, another sign of everything wrong in the world. That's what Loki was. That's why he was so hated. Because he was, through-and-through, the wrong and the sin in this world.
Fun (not really fun, anymore, is it?) Fact #11: Loki has never seen the sunshine and purity in the world that his brother so vehemently places his faith in. Loki sees the bad, the ugly, the sordid, the squalor of humanity. He wants to change that, but he knows, inherently, that it is something that cannot be washed away. It is not something he can defeat. Not even in himself.
"You are the bastard son he didn't want." The words rang through his head like the bells of Notre Dame. Was there anyone who wanted Loki? Didn't want, bastard son, didn't, bastard, want, didn't, didn't want, son, want, bastard son, didn't want. Bastard son he didn't want. Tears were falling again. "So you took me and proceeded to hate me because I am the son of your greatest enemy." His voice was dull. He laughed.
Fun Fact #12: It is never a good sign when Loki laughs during a confrontation. More like a bad omen that is trying to warn you to get your ass well outta Dodge because Loki's on the verge of a mental breakdown. Which, really, at this point, Loki's fucking always on the teetering edge of sanity. God only knows when he'll finally take the plunge.
"I'm a monster to you, just the monster people tell their children about at night? I, am the monster!" He laughed again, tears streaming freely because he just didn't give enough of a fuck anymore to stop them. "You win! You win, Odin. I'm the monster, not you. You get to be great and mighty and beloved and respected. You win." He shrugged, feeling snotty and miserable and defiled and ruined. All his life, and this was the reason why he never fit. Because he wasn't a pretty golden prince like Thor, he was just a dirty, cold, misfit pauper. Could his poor heart sink any further?
Yes, oh yes, it certainly could.
Odin smirked. "Of course, I win. I'm not a dirty street dog, born of a whore and spawned from a lecherous senator." Oops. Bad idea.
Loki's head snapped up, and fire coursed through his veins again. He's the monster? Okay. If he's got the guilt, he's gonna fucking enjoy the sin. "Oh, fuck you. Fuck you for all those years you treated me like the shit on your shoes. I'm not some weak little baby, anymore. And you can't stand the idea of me becoming just as great as your golden boy. You can't have me rising to being something and making something of myself, because despite all odds I'm just as good and just as smart as he ever will be." He snarled, prowling towards Odin and growling like a rabid wolf. Is it a full moon, cause Loki's morphing into something with iron jaws and rip-your-windpipe-out fangs and veins full of ice and damning bloodlust.
"You will never be what Thor is! You're nothing, Loki Laufeyson. You're a bastard child, a dirty homeless wretch, you're worthless." Odin spat, fisting his collar in his big, oversized hand. "And you'll never be nothing but a toy to be slapped around and used like old Thanos taught you. Remember that, Loki? That's all you're good for." He threw him back, making him stumble into a wall.
Loki sprang forward, getting a heavy hand across his chest- courtesy of Thor- to keep him from strangling Odin. Oh, he was losing it but all he could see was red, red, red, warning, warning, warning. Alarms were going off in his head because something hot like magma had spilled in his brain, and he was filled with rage and hurt and memories of two years ago and sitting in the hospital, and remember how bad his ribs hurt and how badly he wanted to cry and cry and cry? Two years ago when he had been broken down and defeated and used and abused. And damn it, he didn't want to ever feel that way again but here he is two years later and all those memories should be so distant but they aren't because Odin shoved them right back in his face. And Odin reminded him how worthless and disgusting and small he had felt and here he was feeling it again thanks to a senator with a heavy hand and a nonexistent soul. And he remembered the cruel smirk and the glinting eyes and the damning words that poured from those ruthless lips those years ago. It hurt, down to his core. Another scar of the many his heart had been branded by. Had anyone left him in as good of condition as they found him? Or was there always a scuff mark or a bleeding gash or a festering bruise left behind to remind him of their impact on his pitifully fragile psyche? He couldn't take it, Loki wasn't this strong. He couldn't do it.
"That's all I'm good for because of you, Odin. Is that what you wanted! Well, here you go! I'm nothing, I'm useless, I'm a monster. I'm your finest creation, Odin." He laughed, his voice raspy and growling like a fucking lion. He was on fire. "I am your magnum opus, old man. You made me, you crafted me from the dirtiest material you could find and made me into something despicable and useless. I am everything nasty and terrible in this world, a fucking blemish on your beautiful little record, huh? A Frankenstein, made from the skeletons in your closet. And don't you ever doubt I will haunt you till the day you die." He was in Odin's face, shoving Thor out of the way. And god damn it, his voice was shaking and angry and broken. But he wouldn't back down, not this time.
"Loki, stop! This is madness!" Thor cried, breaking between them. Oh, bad idea. Just another button pushed that sends Loki on a pained rampage. And Stark is tugging on his sleeve, but Loki doesn't care because this isn't about his best-friend-lover-confidante-guardian-angel. This is about Loki and his shit-fucked family.
"Is it, Thor? Is it? Is it?" He glared at the man holding him away, and um. No. It's not okay that Thor's touching him because Loki is currently a trip-wire. Push him, and you might just get blown to smithereens when he fucking detonates. "Get your filthy hands off me." His voice was about as low as the seventh circle of hell- although, from what he could see, he was in the seventh circle of hell.
"Loki, I'm your brother! Why are you doing this? Why do you hate us all so much?" And Loki could practically feel his brain melting and his heart was pounding miserably and he was in agony. It was too much, too much, too much. His nerves were raw. His heart was broken. The next to go was his mind. Or maybe it was long, long gone by now. Maybe it had taken the first train to the coast because Loki and his fucked life was just too much for any amount of sanity to remain.
He wanted to scream, he wanted to rip his hair out because shouldn't Thor know this? Wasn't it obvious?
Loki hurts, Thor, you fucking ignoramus. Where have you been the past nineteen years? "Because of you! And him! And Thanos! And everything that keeps trampling me down, down, down into the dirt! Because you abandoned me when I needed you most! Weren't you there? Weren't you listening when I cried on your shoulder and begged for someone, anyone, to tell me why I was so wrong? Why I was so out-of-place? You knew the answer!" He felt Thor grip his shoulders tightly, blue eyes blazing like a flame igniting.
And yes, this is what torments Loki about Thor. It isn't so much how he sided with his father or let Odin believe the lies he conjured in his head about what a pain in the ass Loki was- mostly because, well, he could be a pain in the ass, let's be honest here- it wasn't that he let Loki take the blame and consequences for his sins, no. It was how he sat there idly by and watched Loki fall into this wreck he currently was, all because he didn't belong, he wasn't right, he wasn't just like Thor. And he knew, the whole time, that Loki felt so lost and despised simply because he WAS wrong, he was despised, he was lost. And no matter how many times Thor insisted that they are brothers, and that Loki is part of his family, Loki will always know just how incredibly wrong he was. And it will tear him apart until the end of time, but the truth didn't care about its effect, there's no concern over the consequences it's weight will have on the bearer's shoulders. No, truth is indifferent, unflinching, obdurate. It was like the weight of the nine realms on Loki's frail, slender shoulders. A cross he couldn't bear, a pressure he couldn't withstand.
"I hate you." Loki whimpered.
And that was the straw that broke the camel's back.
Thor's fist snapped into Loki's nose, sending him wheeling backwards. His skull felt like it was crushed by Thor's massive fist. He could feel the imprint of each iron knuckle on his face, seared into his memory by exploding agony. Blood was pouring in a warm, carmine fountain. Ow. That hurt so much he should be sent to the morgue. Surely his skull had split from the incredible force of Thor's punch? Surely Loki couldn't withstand another crushing force bearing down on his body, mind, soul? When his hearing came back on- bringing him back to the land of the living quite effectively- he heard too many people yelling at far too loud a decibel. But he doesn't care. Wanna know why?
Because there isn't a soul in that room but him and Thor. Him and his brother. Him and what felt like Judas Iscariot. Him and the man he had adored for nineteen years with every small, insignificant cell of his body. That man that had just torn his heart out with a fist made of hatred and pent-up confusion and desperation and years of being so screwed over and fucked up by a life neither of them had chosen. This wasn't their doing, they were the mere children of Circumstance and Fate. They had not taken this road, they had been dragged down it blind-folded and groping for something to hold onto as they slipped and stumbled and ignorantly traipsed down a slippery slope.
He let out a jungle-king growl and tackled Thor- because even though he's featherlight and really fucking lanky, all Loki had in a fight was his minuscule weight- to the floor. About precisely that moment, Thor got the upper hand. How much ya wanna bet Thor doesn't know what 'clemency' means? And Loki's taken enough beatings to withstand the first few punches splendidly- in other words, growling and snarling like a god damn street mutt- until that kill-shot. That one thing that could make Loki a crying, whimpering, begging mess. One big fist slammed like a car wreck into Loki's ribcage. A yelp broke from his mouth like something reached inside him and tore it straight from his lungs. He sounded like a wounded animal- and felt like one too- hunted, a shot through the forest, searing pain through his ribs. It's all very much like the day he broke those ribs two years ago. It all takes him back to that moment.
"Thanos! Calm down, please!" Loki couldn't take a fucking second to realize he was groveling, begging, crying like a child. He didn't really care what he looked like, with blood running down his face from that cut above his eyebrow. When Thanos' fist crashed into his face the first time, the ring on his middle finger had ripped a gash in his forehead. The ring that he had wanted to give Loki mere moments ago- which had started this whole fucking...predicament.
"Oh, I'm perfectly calm, Loki." He stood over Loki, looking down his aquiline nose at the boy sprawled on the floor. A shiver ran up Loki's rather shaken body. How was this even happening? Hadn't he been through this enough? A thin hand that had once been used to touch him with love, yanked him up to his feet. It brushed away his bloody hair and wiped away the tears. "Don't cry. It makes you look so unattractive." The voice was flat and hard. Loki trembled.
If Loki had learned one thing while living with Odin Odinson for the past seventeen years of his life, it was that abusers don't just abuse with fists, they abuse with words. Loki knew it from the mirror, where he saw xylophone ribs and ivory-key knuckles and sharp-as-a-knife hip bones staring back at him bleakly. It was miserable, not eating for days. Just for Thanos, just because of that comment when they first met that Loki was 'a bit pudgy'. Now, look at him. When was the last time he ate an actual meal? When he did more than pick at his food for fear he might add on another pound? When had he looked at himself and seen something he wasn't disgusted by?
"I'm s-sorry." He stuttered, falling over his words because his tongue was tripping in fear. He couldn't think straight, he couldn't see straight, he couldn't do anything because he was paralyzed. Unable. Unable to fight back or call for help or just get up and walk the fuck out like he should've done months ago. The first time Thanos hurt him. But it hadn't been a fist that kept him from walking straight for days.
"Have you reconsidered?" The commination in Thanos' voice made it very clear exactly what would happen should Loki continue to say 'no.' But what else could he say? He didn't want to marry Thanos! He didn't even want to date the man, but he was too petrified to break up with him. He wouldn't tie himself to this guy if he was the last man on planet fucking Earth. And Loki told him precisely that, because he refused to be afraid any longer, even if it got him put in the hospital. Thanos' lips pulled back in something feral and a little insane. Loki shivered. "You're going to be sorry for that, baby." And the endearment was about as frozen as the southern pole and seeped through Loki's brain insidiously, creeping into his veins like pure ice. He was shivering, goosebumps running across his wintry pale skin.
Then it all came crashing down like the fist in his face, snapping his head back on its axis and throwing him backwards without warning. His back smacked against the wall when someone shoved him into the hard surface, grinding his shoulder blades into the wall relentlessly. He cringed, opening his eyes to look into smoldering eyes that made him want to puke. "This doesn't change anything." He whispered, his voice hoarse and cracking. Oh god, please let this be over quick. Loki was no stranger to pain, but he was pretty sure his tolerance had only dwindled with exposure.
But it wasn't fast. It was long, a short eternity, before the beating was over. Before the pain was just a throbbing presence in every muscle in his body. The tears were still running down his face when Thanos left, slamming the door behind him. Because the pain...the pain was excruciating, coming from every nook and cranny in his body and centralizing in his ribs- which sat at an awkward, unnatural angle. Something was broken, something that wasn't his heart- although that was pretty demolished too. The world was a little spinny, the lights and colors dancing a tango in his screwed vision. Pain does funny things like that.
"Thor? I need you to come take me to the hospital. I'm at Thanos's." He rasped into his cellphone, unable to move an inch without pain slamming his body like a steamroller. His hips ached, his hands shaking when he cinched his belt again. Best if Thor didn't know the specifics.
"What happened? Where's Thanos?" Thor sounded naive, but Loki didn't care because he could actually hear the blessed sound of Thor's car starting up.
"Just...just get here, soon. Okay?" Then he snapped the phone closed and tried to stop breathing, because it just hurt too bad.
Thor froze, and Loki, hurt and blinded by a painful haze that had taken over his sight, lashed out in the moment of stillness. His hand- a loose fist because, damn, was it hard to do anything with that much pain ricocheting through oneself- hit a really, really hard bone. Loki was pretty sure it hurt him as much as Thor, but it did get the man off him and he was standing and looking around and he couldn't hear or see anything through the white-hot fire taking over his body. Whoa, is it hard to breathe. Loki's world was spinning.
Then someone slammed him into the wall and started wailing on him and he really couldn't think to do anything more than sob and try to fight back. But it was a weak assault from him, even by his standards. And whoever was beating on him was not a big, goopy blond who would rip out his heart and hand it to Loki on a silver platter. No, this person was so much bigger and so much more vicious and he wasn't even listening to Loki's choked pleas. Where was Anthony? Why wasn't anyone saving him?
Had the world finally given up on him?
Tony was fucking going crazy! Some big ass dude was holding him back and Odin was beating the ever-loving fuck out of his boy, who's crying and whimpering something completely unintelligible and sinking down to the ground like the Universe is bearing down on him with all the weight of the world on his shaking shoulders. And those gut-wrenching sobs feel like they're tearing Tony's insides apart, shredding his soul because he can't bare what he's witnessing. Struggling and squirming and trying to stomp feet into the floor just to get free and get to his boy. His Loki. His.
Then there's Thor, hunched over on his knees, looking for all the world like someone yanked his batteries out. Just staring, staring, staring, blank and glassy-eyed and Tony wanted to kill them. Kill each and every one of them. A fucking massacre. He was pretty sure he could pull it off, because right now all the rage in his body is eating at him like a parasite. Because wasn't that what rage was? A parasite, killing you slowly by sucking away the life inside you, tedious and insidious. But it was also fuel, feeding the fire of whatever bloodlust was poisoning you then. Like a drug, like a poison, like cocaine and cyanide.
Tony, fed up with being held away from his -ahem, lover- best friend, snaps his head back against the man behind him, getting a stuttering pain in his head and a groan and loosened arms. Then he's moving, throwing Odin off Loki and falling to his knees in front of the boy and letting Loki's limp body fall forward into his arms. He's out. I mean, out like a god damn light.
"Loki? Lo-Lo? Wake up, darling." He murmured, lightly cupping Loki's face in his hands and cringing at the blood that's running from his nose and the cut on his mouth from Odin's ring- a similar cut to the ones he's gotten from Howard's own taste in jewelry- which makes him look halfway dead. And god damn, Tony's scared shitless. Behind him, he can hear Thor calling an ambulance. Tony realized that this was the second time Loki's been to the hospital since they've gotten close and that kind of makes Tony feel like a curse because maybe it's his fault that everything got so bad with Loki and his dad? I mean, Odin was definitely not into the whole homosexual thing, no one could be friends with Howard without that one very firm requirement.
So, Tony cradled Loki protectively, not even glancing at Odin or Thor, and feeling the odd angle of Loki's sharp, protruding ribs. It made him want to puke, feeling the way his best friend had been broken like a little porcelain doll. Like a thrown away toy. Like a dog on the wrong side of the curb. He was beaten, bruised, run-over and discarded. It made Tony furious, that someone could do that. That someone could hurt someone so perfect and innocent and beautiful. But the world was unfair like that, unjust, uncaring.
He heard the ambulance. He heard the EMTs come running up the stairs. He heard them burst into the room. Watched them take his angel, strap him to a gurney, run him out of the room with him trailing behind. Thor and Odin stayed where they were. Tony's heart shattering all over the place because this was a little bit like deja vu. And Howard not coming to the hospital when Tony tried to end it all and take himself out of this fragmented, shattered picture. And now it was a longing that was starting again in his chest, to escape, to run away, to let go of the breathe in his lungs and the blood in his veins. It would be so easy.
Commitment was scary. Terrifying. Not something he would ever admit, even to himself. But here and now, with Loki bleeding and broken, feeling guilt galore, wanting so much to douse himself in cold water and wake up from this terrible nightmare- Tony was ready to knock back too many pills and a bottle of the best whiskey his dad owned. But he wouldn't-couldn't- because there was Loki, sweet, precious, lonely Loki. Loki the orphan. Loki the spitfire. Loki the silvertongue. Loki the unhinged. Loki the loner. Loki who needed him, no matter how much they refused to admit it. Loki who wanted Tony around, although he would never say as much in words. Tony had to read it in glistening green eyes and smirking pink lips and blushing pallid cheeks.
At the ambulance, he moves to get in, but someone stops him. "Are you family?" The man asked, looking at him with fucking solemnity that made Tony want to puke, again.
And just as he was about to lie- a rather flourishing talent of his- another voice spoke. "Yes, let him go." Thor. "I'll follow in my car, Tony." His blue eyes are more sober and sorrowful than Tony had ever seen them. He nodded, deciding against bitching the man out just then.
But it would come.
If the guilt didn't eat them both alive first.
Tony sipped his coffee thoughtlessly, not even tasting the bitter liquid sliding across his tongue and down his throat. His entire being was focused on one skinny, Batman-sock enveloped foot that stuck out from beneath hospital-white sheets. Loki had been tossing and turning all night, his nose cased in white, his ribs wrapped in a tight bandage. The pained groans coming from his mouth had made Tony go nuts, pacing back and forth and back and forth so many times Thor almost screamed at him to sit down. But hey, they were both a little on edge.
"I mean, what the fuck were you thinking?" He yelled, reaming into the big man that towered over him timidly. "Odin could've killed him, Thor. I was so scared." As demure and solemn as he sounded, he really wanted to kill that eye-patched motherfucker. Bloodlust started to boil in his blood again, seeping into every nook and cranny of his body and soul and mind. These emotions seemed to consume, consume, consume.
"I know, Tony." The bigger teenager hung his head. "I just don't know what to do or who to believe anymore. Loki has been like this for years. And he and father have never seen eye-to-eye." He frowned, slumping down in his chair like a defeated man. It was almost pitiful. But, Tony clenched his jaw against the pity. Thor didn't deserve it. Loki did.
But something inside him asked, 'What if he's just as much the victim as Loki?'. I mean, it was plausible, and even imaginable, that all of this hurt Thor too. If he really loved his brother as much as he claimed to...
"Beating the fear of god into him isn't the way to go, I assure you, Thor." He sighed, running a hand through his tangled, unruly curls. "He's never going to trust you again." And that was the truth, if Tony had ever heard it. Loki would probably never look at Thor with kindness again, and who could blame him? Considering how much Tony wanted to strangle Thor...well, 'he who is without sin, cast the first stone.'
Big, teary blue eyes looked up at him again, bottom lip quivering, big dog baying his sorrow as loud as it would ever get. Thor was a soldier, hard on the inside despite how bright and sunny and sweet he seemed. "This was the last thing I wanted. He's been in and out of the hospital so much, Tony. Especially the last two years. Ever since Thanos..." He shook his head. "I wasn't there for him then, either. I've broken my promise to protect him and shield him from all who wanted to hurt him." A tear trickled down his cheek, lodging itself in the crease of his frowning mouth. Tony followed it's winding track across his tan skin.
Thanos. He needed to ask Loki about that. Not Thor. Loki would kill them both if he found out they had been talking about a previous relationship behind his back. Nope. No. Gotta wait. He was beginning to believe the whole curiosity killed the cat bit.
"Anthony?" It was a bit gurgled and cracked, but Loki's voice jolted him out of his daydream like an electric shock to his spinal cord. "Water." The pale-skinned teenager croaked. Not for the first time, Tony realized he looked like a ghost with his pale skin and dark-rimmed green eyes under these brash, unkind lights.
Tony jumped to grab some cold water off the bedside table, helping Loki sit up just enough so he didn't choke when swallowing. The moan when he moved yanked a stabbing pain into Tony's chest, where the arc reactor thrummed patiently just waiting for Tony to get the balls to reveal it to his lover/best friend/what-the-fuck-ever Loki was. Jesus, they were terrible with commitment. Were normal humans this reluctant to bind themselves to another human being they loved and cared about and would do pretty much anything for? Because, really, Tony was beginning to think it was a situation unique to them, and them only. Really, everyone else seemed overjoyed to be in a committed relationship where everything was laid out on the table and there were special terms and really, it was like a fucking business contract to Tony. Something his dad would promote. Not that his dad really promoted anything when it came to Tony except building world-renowned explosives and engines no one else could dream up and artificially intelligent robots. Yeah, he and his dad were real winners like that. If it wasn't metal or wired to blow up a few million innocent humans, the elder Stark deemed Tony bound to fuck up.
Loki laid back against the pillows with another moan. His long, spidery fingers- knuckles bruised and cut and swollen from the fight yesterday morning- flew to rest against his ribcage. Tony remembered the weird angle they cut when he was cradling the younger boy against his chest, sitting on the floor, feeling helpless and staring at a very ensanguined Loki. Apparently, the younger boy saw the emotion on his face, because his free hand- the one not pressed against his ribs in a rather obvious expression of pain (which, if we're being honest, hurts Tony just a bit more than it hurts Loki)- slipped into Tony's.
"I'm alright." He smiled shakily, reassuring the ink-haired boy looking him over with concerned green eyes.
"Kiss me." Loki murmured, pulling him closer, up onto the bed with him.
And this is just a testament to how well Loki knows Tony. Because he knows that Tony needs that contact, that skin on skin, that pressure against his lips, that taste of tea and mint, to remind him that Loki's okay, he's here, he's alive. He's not going anywhere. That he needs Tony to be strong for a little while, because he can't, because he needs someone on his side that wont betray him and hurt him and fuck him over. That he needs Tony's fingers between his, that he needs that presence to be a promise, not a fleeting touch. That he needs Tony to be committed, if only in the brown of his eyes and the touch of his fingers. Loki needs someone he can depend on.
Tony decided he's just the man for the job.
Their lips met and Tony was pulled into the world of Loki Odinson. Sweet mint, cool winter, dark evergreen. Cool skin against his heat, coal black against muddy brown, emerald against chocolate, pink against chapped red. Long black eyelashes whispered against Tony's cheek, and a barely pointed nose brushing his own nose lightly. The other boy was practically putty in Tony's hands, which traced up Loki's elegant neck and around his sharp jawline and back across his skull and into a silky forest of black hair. Long fingers clutched the collar of his shirt, holding him close, and urging him even closer.
Well, Tony's not going to ignore that.
He pressed their mouths together more passionately, running his tongue across perfect, soft lips. Loki parted his lips, almost like a reflex, and Tony slid his tongue into his cool mouth, tasting mint and the lasting metallic tang of blood. The cracks between his teeth still held that tangy red substance within them, holding it hostage for the ransom of a toothbrush and toothpaste. But it was unique to Loki, and as such, seemed like heaven to Tony.
They pulled apart slowly, like just the taste of each other was reassuring and the loss of it would be detrimental to their state of mind. And maybe it was, maybe it was like opening an old wound, to remember everything that happened, to remember why they were here, to be thrown back into this white-washed, brash environment where everything was out in the open and there were no shadows, no grey, just white, and light. Tony thought Loki was squinting a little, and wished he could turn off the lights that gleamed through the window of Loki's room. Or maybe it was the fact that Loki had a concussion and must have a terrible headache, and probably wanted to be doused in the pith of hell if it would block out the light.
"I'm sorry." Again, it was Loki's voice that brought Tony's thoughts back to the real world. Adderall, Tony misses you very, very much.
He frowned, feeling his dark eyebrows push down over his eyes deeply. "You have nothing to be sorry for, darling." Scarred fingertips caressed Loki's cheek tenderly. Soft skin brushed against the calloused skin of his fingers, feeling like satin under his sandpaper skin. "I was actually going to apologize to you, for not getting him away from you sooner." Tony was trembling, shaking, guilty. That moment he had seemed suspended in time, incapable of getting to Loki while someone broke him down piece-by-piece and he was useless, failing him yet again.
Fail.
Fail.
Fail.
Fail.
Fail.
Howard was right. If it wasn't wired to kill innocents or made of metal...Tony was bound to fuck it up.
Loki woke up the next day to see Stark with his head on the bed, laying on crossed arms, curls tumbling over his forehead and into his eyes, sleeping. A small smile toyed with his lips, because damn, it was good to wake up to someone by his side, keeping him safe, watching over him- even if he was asleep, because Loki knew even angels needed their sleep. And he really believed Stark was a bit of an angel, even if he had fallen from heaven's straits. Because if he hadn't fallen, then Loki wouldn't get to hold him and love him and see his most flawed moments when he was almost human.
He nudged the sleeping boy gently. A brown eye cracked open blearily, settling on him and putting a smile on Stark's half-asleep expression. "Come here." He curled his fingers around Stark's collar, tugging the tiny teenager up onto the bed beside him. He slid to the side, feeling Anthony curl up on the sheets between them, stained fingertips running along the bandages on his ribs. The feeling ran a chill up his spine- loving gentleness contrasting with hateful brutality.
And this was where he realized he felt perfectly safe. Out of harm's way. Shielded from all the bad things that made him hiss like a pissed cat. Here, all was perfect and happy and he was warm and everything was inherently Stark. Everything was cinnamon and motor oil and old smoke and late nights and scotch. Everything had meteors and spider-web constellations and Adderall and cigarettes. Skin was calloused and hair was coarse and everything was a little scarred and there was always a storm brewing underneath the happy strain of everything. Because that happiness was fabricated by prescription drugs and alcohol and self-denial and lies. Those smiles were a masquerade. The world was a stage and Stark was playing in the show of a lifetime.
Loki wanted to change that, to turn those smiles into something real.
Tony woke up slowly, a soft breathing against his neck making a smile spread across his face before he even opened his eyes. A hand was draped across his waist, a heat pressed against his side. Loki's face was nuzzled up beneath his jaw, a nose pressed gently against his neck and a chin tucked against his shoulder. The boy stirred, rubbing his face against Tony's hot skin before settling again with a soft whine.
Almost sad to be waking up, Tony opened his eyes, squinting at the bright hospital lights. How had they slept through this fuckery? He sighed, rubbing his face- being careful not to jostle the sleeping boy that was practically draped across him. He ran a hand along the arm draped across him, scarred skin against scarred skin. Burns across burns, allowing the memory of that day when Loki had been on fire, screaming bloody hell in agony...how Tony had felt, the bile that rose in his throat at the sight of someone he loved being so hurt.
A throat cleared, making him jolt. Loki woke with a start. "What?" He moaned, lifting his head and blinking owlishly. But Tony didn't see him.
His eyes were focused on his dad's searing brown eyes. "Hello, son. How was Afghanistan?" Tony gulped, listening to Loki growl and mutter something unintelligible under his breath. "I saw the footage of you returning home yesterday." Yesterday? Um, dude, Tony got back a month ago. Oh, and no, no, Howard, Tony's not damaged at all from being blown up and carted to Afghanistan with a car battery strapped to his chest. Nah. He's fine. Perfectly fine. No need for his own father to be worried, none at all. But really, had Tony expected anything but this? No. No, he hadn't because Howard had never really cared whether he lived or died.
"Did you really?" He murmured, his eyes now focused on the grumbling being re-situating himself beside him. He grunted when a sharp him knocked against him- a little vindictively, if he knew anything about Loki. A smile tried to push the corners of his mouth up.
"Yes. I saw you and...him." Howard's head inclined towards Loki, who was still muttering spitefully- which stopped when he realized he was being talked about. Green eyes pierced Tony's brown when they looked at each other. Whoops. And here he thought he'd gotten a get-out-of-jail-free card with that one.
"That was my fault." Loki's chest-deep growl made him physically relax. "I was happy to see him." He smirked and shrugged a shoulder lazily.
And no, Loki, it's not okay to take the blame for Tony.
"That's a lie. I kissed him." He sat up, ignoring Loki's growl of protest. He knew he was Loki's personal heater. But right now, he needed to face Howard. Cuddling- yes, something he actually wants to do, cuddling isn't a bad word anymore- could come after. "And if you don't like it, it's your fucking problem, not mine." He followed in Loki's footsteps, smirking and shrugging as if it meant nothing in the world to him to be standing up to this asshole. But we all know that this takes some extraordinary amount of courage. Extraordinary.
Loki's fingers traced patterns on his back, because Loki was still laying down, probably staring up at the place between his shoulder-blades. He could feel the heat of those green irises- because Tony's totally not hot enough already. "It was a good kiss. You're a good kisser." Loki murmured sleepily, tracing figure-eights on his backbone.
He smirked. Loki wouldn't have said that for the world if he wasn't a defiant little fucker who liked to mess with people. "He's a boy." Howard's voice sounded strained. Tony looked up to see his father's face was beet red. It was all he could do to keep himself from cackling like the half-demon he was.
Loki huffed. "Of course I'm a boy, you moron. How long did it take you to figure that out?" Whoop. Loki's back, folks, sarcastic and condescending as ever.
Howard's jaw clenched. "My son is straight." He snarled, and Loki was right beside him, his legs placed dangerously across Tony's.
"Oh, now I'm your son?" Tony laughed. "My, how things change when one gets abducted." He placed a hand over his heart, feeling the harsh metal of the arc reactor thrum beneath his palm. "Maybe I should've gone to Afghanistan sooner, hmm?" He spat. This was rich. Really fucking rich. He had a god damn battery keeping him running, and his dad was pissed because, oh, he's gay for Loki. Whoop-dee-fucking-doo.
But it was a big deal to Howard, Tony could see it written across his face as plain as day. The man was fuming. An maybe just a little bit close to having a coronary. "Tony, this isn't acceptable." His voice was shaking. Rage.
But, oh, what a tangled web we weave.
"Acceptable? Acceptable?" Tony's voice was kind of-sort of on the edge of hysterics. Let it never be said that the Stark men don't know how to throw some kind of diva-bitch hissy fit. "Is it acceptable to tell your kid that he killed his mother? Or that you didn't even want him? Is that acceptable, Howie?" He spat, his fingers clenching in tight, white-hot anger.
"Anthony..." Loki's voice was soft, pretty, like an angel. But Tony didn't respond to him, his eyes blazing into Howard's.
"Yes! Because it's true!" The man stood. "You killed my Maria. You took away the best thing I ever had. You. You parasitic mistake." The venom in Howard Stark's voice broke Tony into a million pieces. But, he just nodded.
"Yeah, they say I'm just like my dad."
A/N: I shall spare you the usual half-a-novel size author's note to say, LOVE YOU ALL. Oh, and I wanted to do a shout-out thingie.
Arianissa- Omg. I love you. And yes, I shall help you with hunting down Odin. But your reviews always bring a smile to my face. Thank you so much :)
The Walking Daryl- No worries, there is more. Knowing me and my love for characters, this fic may never end. Thank you so much :)
DecadentGrrrl- I'm kind of an emotional fucker like that. So, my stuff is like *EMOTIONSSSSS*. Thank you for reviewing and reading! ;)
mrschultz- LOL. Me and angst is a love affair that has been going on for some time. Me and fluff...welllllll, we're in the awkward new stage and it might take me some time to be even half as good at it as I am at angst. I hope Loki's last relationship came out well, it was terrifying me to write. AH. Thank you for reviewing ;)
cara-tanaka- Yeah. Odin needs to be shot. Now. But alas, I'm afraid the resilient motherfucker sticks around for some time. Lol. Thanks for reviewing :)
Generation-Loki - Gah. My author's note in the last chapter was a tad cruel xD. But, hey, gotta keep everyone interested somehow ;). Thank you for reviewing and reading! :)
Now, I know these lovely folks aren't the only ones who've read and reviewed. But, they were the ones for my last chapter and I felt I had been remarkably ungrateful-seeming for someone who really seriously cherishes their reviewers/viewers/readers. I love you all so incredibly much, and this fic has gotten so much more attention than I ever imagined it would. Thank you ALL. Whether you just read, or review and read, you seriously make me want to write and give me inspiration. THANK YOU. You all make my days a bit brighter.
Now, the next chapter. Hmm. I still haven't revealed the arc reactor have I. And god knows, Tony's being a bit of a chicken. Tsk tsk.
Pweeese review? Pweeze?
xoxox Have a great weekend, all you beautiful people.