A/N: To my guest reviewer who asked how often I update: as often as possible! I try for 2-3 times a week, sometimes I update every single day. I'm a prolific writer. I cracked out 60 chapters of The Bargain in just over six months!

Second Installment: Damaged

For over four months, this tiny cabin had been Loki's home. The first thing the Aether did when they arrived on this world was take a permanent form. How she'd done that Loki would never impart to Stark, because he somehow suspected the human would protest. Upon taking a functional form with hands, she'd begun attempting to heal. Not something her power was ever meant to do. She was a force of destruction. Unmaking. Not remaking.

To say she hadn't been the best at it was a hideous understatement.

But she was determined, and she had helped Loki a great deal. Mainly by extracting Thanos' seiðr from Loki's dying body. She'd built them a shelter, built nice little furniture, started a nice little garden, and hunted for meat now and then. It was all terribly domestic.

Terribly fucking domestic.

Grimacing, Loki mentally chided himself for even thinking in Midgardian slang. I don't want Stark here.

Even as the thought formed, he closed his eyes and pressed fingers to his temples. It was true, but it also wasn't. There wasn't much he wanted more than to have his human lover with him. Just not like this. The Aether had pushed and pushed for him to bring Stark here as soon as he was strong enough to walk, and Loki had resisted until just this day. Seeing Stark was sweet and painful. Sweet because he enjoyed Stark's company.

Painful because . . .

He almost jumped when the door opened and Stark strolled back in. He had a bright purple flower tucked behind one ear, and Loki smiled in spite of himself.

"How becoming."

Stark just chuckled. "Aether put it there. It's beyond weird, seeing her as a little girl."

"It has been useful," Loki mused, looking back to the fire, "her new form."

"So I imagine," Stark said, sitting in the chair opposite again. "Loki -"

"Don't," Loki immediately cut him off. "Not . . . not now." Not yet.

"How do you know what I was going to say?" Stark demanded, sounding irritated.

"I always know what you're going to say. You humans radiate your intentions like a transmitter tower."

Stark made a vexed sound. "Fine, I won't ask you about it yet. But I will, Loki. And don't think you can keep me at bay forever. There are some things I want to know."

"I know," Loki said softly, mostly to himself.

"Tell me one thing."

"Just the one?"

"For now."

"Very well."

"Do you really want me here?"

Blinking, Loki lifted his eyes to meet dark brown. Like rich chocolate. Warm, open, inviting. For several seconds, he couldn't speak, wrestling with emotions he didn't want to feel. Then, just as Stark started to look hurt, Loki closed his eyes and turned his head away.

"Yes."

It was little more than a whisper. A breath riding an intention. He heard Stark get up, then warm hands were on his thighs.

"Let me make love to you."

That startled a soft snort of amusement from Loki's throat as he looked down at Stark, who had knelt in front of his chair. "Alas for your libido, I don't think my body is up to that just yet." He lightly cupped Stark's chin in his fingers. "As soon as I am strong enough, I'm all yours."

Stark grabbed his hand and kissed each one of his fingers. "I can't figure you out right now. You're being so sweet, but you're also being cold. Won't you tell me what's wrong? I want to help."

Loki pulled his hand free. "You can't." Then, because that wasn't true, "Just being here is helping a little, though."

"Only a little?" Stark demanded with a ridiculously wounded expression.

Loki smirked. "All right, more than a little."

"That's better," Stark said, leaning up to fuse their mouths together.

After a split second of hesitation, Loki relaxed and allowed it. He even opened his mouth before Stark's tongue started demanding entrance. Stark never asked for it, he always demanded it. One of many things that made it difficult for Loki to resist this man. At Stark's insistence, he opened his mouth wider, and Stark's tongue delved deeper, tangling around his own. A soft intake of breath when Stark's teeth nipped at his tongue and lips. The kiss went on until Loki felt lightheaded, then he finally broke the kiss and turned his head to the side.

Stark nibbled along his jaw. "I love you, you know."

"Yes, you overly sentimental fool. You've made that inescapably clear." But he was smiling and couldn't help it.

When Stark saw it, he smiled too. "But I'm your fool."

Reaching down, Loki ran his fingers through Stark's dark brown hair. "Since I can't seem to get rid of you, I suppose that does make you mine."

Oh, the look on his face. Worse than any of the sappy, saccharine, sentimental looks he'd ever seen on Thor's face. For his words he received another kiss, this one with more teeth than the first, more eating. He tolerated the rudeness of it until he ran out of breath, then he bit Stark's lower lip. The man chuckled as he pulled away, expression anything but contrite.

"Sorry, babe. But I can't help myself. I haven't seen you in five months."

Loki eased himself out of the chair. "It's been just barely over four," he corrected with a smirk. "And now that you're here, I've thought of a use for you."

"Oh good," Stark said, getting to his feet with liquid, noticeable ease. "I wouldn't want to be useless."

"No," Loki said, smiling to himself as he headed for the small kitchen and opened a small box full of herbs that he steeped for a wonderful, aromatic tea. "You really wouldn't."

Arms snaked around his waist and a chin landed on his shoulder. "Got anything stronger than that?"

"No," Loki said again, "but I'm certain Aether could brew you a little something. She learns very, very quickly."

"Are you assuming I know how to make moonshine?"

"No, Anthony, I'm not assuming."

Stark chuckled. "All right, all right. I'll teach our little girl a thing or two."

Loki's hands paused as he looked at the man. "Our little girl?"

The man grinned. "Always thought I wanted to have a kid or two someday. Just didn't quite foresee something like this."

Snorting, Loki went back to his tea. "I'm a little surprised you're so easily accepting it."

"What? Her new form?"

"Partially. But you realize she's free, don't you? Before, she was bound in a crystal. Now she's free. All of her. I cannot control her actions."

Stark frowned. "What are you saying?"

Smiling, Loki pressed a light kiss to his jaw. "Aether is hardly a little girl."

The man released him, but he didn't move more than a step to the side. "So, we have the most destructive force in all the Nine Realms just . . . wandering free?"

"Essentially," Loki replied, in a sudden good humor to hear the anxiety and exasperation in Stark's voice. "By the way, you will not endear yourself to me with your absurd Midgardian nicknames."

Though Stark was obviously thrown by the abrupt topic change, he recovered with a smirk. "What? Don't like me calling you babe?" He nuzzled Loki's ear.

"No," Loki replied, moving a few centimeters to place himself just out of reach and giving Stark a look of warning, "I do not."

That received no acknowledgement of understanding, but then again, why was he bothering? This time when Stark tried to kiss him, he denied the man.

Then Stark threw him off with an unexpected question. "Is Thanos dead?"

His body tensed minutely. For a second, he considered lying. There was no benefit in lying, so he sighed and answered with truth. "I don't know, but I doubt it."

Warm, surprisingly strong hands closed around his upper arms and squeezed with enough force Loki winced. "Will he come after you?"

"I doubt it," Loki said, grateful for the grounding touch, even if it hurt. "He achieved what he sought, even if in a very different way. Aether has been watching for him in case he had vengeance on the mind, but I don't believe he will."

Stark pressed himself to Loki's back, making a rueful sound. "Can't believe he's still alive. After all that, he didn't fucking die."

Loki felt like his skin turned to ice. "I was still protecting him."

A startled silence. "What?"

He twisted in Stark's arms, suddenly desperate to be free. To be alone. "I thought you went to help Aether," he snapped.

For once, the clingy human let go and moved away. "Yeah," he said softly after a moment. "Yeah, I was." He turned as if to go. Then, "I'm sorry, Loki."

The compassion, the sympathy (pity) in his rich brown eyes made Loki feel ill. "Don't be," he spat, turning his back to the man.

After another handful of silent seconds, Stark finally left. Loki braced his hands on the wood countertop. It had taken the Aether hours and hours of work to smooth it down to her liking. His eyes squeezed shut.

This is why I didn't want you here. You ask questions. She does not. Most of the time, he and the Aether never spoke, content in the silence. But not Stark. No. He was a damn human, and humans liked to discuss things. Work through them with their voices.

That was the absolute last thing Loki wanted. He never wanted to think about what had happened there in Midgard ever again.