Writing for Tony in this chapter was the highlight of...well, this chapter. Thank you so much to everyone who read the last chapter, and a big thank you to all who reviewed! I appreciate every single one of you, and it really inspires me to write more to the best of my ability.

"The fact of the matter is, something's kind of sort of messed up."

Of course, it had to be Tony that had to break the less than good news to Thor. Maybe it was because everyone knew that if it was between Thor and his magic hammer of awesomeness versus anyone else, it was Tony that could actually survive the impact. Said everyone else, however, seemed to forget that he required the suit in order to keep himself alive when Thor wasn't in his best mood, something Tony currently lacked.

"What do you speak of, Stark?" said Thor.

God, wasn't this supposed to be Bruce's job? The doctor breaking dramatic news to the family? He did not sign up for this.

"See, it's about Loki," said Tony. Immediately, Thor tensed and Tony regretted waking up this morning. He was supposed to be back at Stark Tower this Saturday morning, watching crappy cartoons, planning a date with Pepper, and eating pancakes that Dummy attempted to make. Not third-wheeling a Norse god bromance.

"Speak quickly, Stark," said Thor. "What is wrong with my brother?"

"I mean, it's nothing deadly…I don't think," said Tony. "It's just that we—well, SHIELD—has been scanning him for levels of magical activity regularly. You know, to make sure he doesn't get enough energy to blow something up. But we made sure to at least leave enough that he would be able to heal and stuff. And…well, something's amiss."

He called upon one of the convenient screens SHIELD had lying around and logged into Loki's records. He pointed to the line graph recording Loki's data. "See? You'd think that his magic would—you know—build up and then be gradually used for the healing process, right? I mean, this isn't science, no matter what you say, so I can't really say I'm accurate."

"It sounds practical, yes," said Thor, squinting at the graph.

"Yeah, but that's not the case here with Loki," said Tony. "Now, I'd understand if because he still has one cuff on, the process would go really, really slowly. But here, you can see—there is no level of elevation for Loki's magic at all. It's always at a huge low. But this graph—"

He scrolled down to the other line graph directly below. This graph was more unstable, rising and dropping to form mountain peaks. "This graph measures the unusual energy in him altogether, not necessarily the one he makes himself. And it's bouncing off the walls. By the looks of it, there's magic in him, but it's not—well, it's not his magic."

"Is it the poison I spoke of earlier?" said Thor, his forehead creasing.

"I don't know about you extraterrestrial type, but here on Earth we don't need magic poison. Poisonous poison does the job just fine," said Tony. "It's like an energy source—no, an energy cesspool. It looks as if it's feeding off of Loki's magic. That's why he isn't healing as he ought to."

"Does this condemn Loki?" Thor said, blanching.

"No," said Tony. "Well, not with us around. If you kept him out in the wilderness a little longer without any proper medical attention...let's not think about that."

"I thought he needed his magic to keep himself alive," Thor said, troubled. "You saw how he was on your vehicle. When you cut off his magic, he nearly died."

"Yeah, that's what I thought as well," said Tony. "But I think the case is—whatever this thing is, his magic wasn't fighting it off. It was letting the mystery thing suck it bone dry. And I guess when there was no magic to feed off of, said mystery thing resorted to sucking out Loki's life."

Thor licked his lips nervously. "What is this? How do we take it out of him?"

"That's the thing. No one's really sure," said Tony. "We did all these X-ray scans on him and CAT scans and Xerox copy scans, but we can't find anything in him that isn't supposed to be there. It seems like it's something closer to a disease more than anything."

"But will it kill him?" said Thor.

"It sure isn't doing him any favors," said Tony.

"Surely—surely there must be something that can be done," said Thor.

"It's hard to say," said Tony, leaning back in his chair. "Unless Reindeer Games can actually speak up and tell us what they did to him that might have led to that, we won't be going very far. Like I said, he'll heal the normal 'mortal' way, maybe. But mortals are pretty prone to infections or faulty biology."

Thor bit his lip, trying to find a loophole in this diagnosis. "Your chains can bind his magic," said Thor. "Surely you can make something that can bind the magic that inhibits Loki."

"You'd think that my babies I made would have already covered that, but they don't," said Tony. "If I really wanted to, I would have to run Loki through several tests to check for any sort of gamma ray or wavelengths coming from him that may differ from his own magic in order to specifically target it. You know, to make the stupid thing and such."

Thor gave a very wry half-smile. "But your SHIELD may not want to expend all that effort to save Loki, am I correct?"

Dammit. Point Break was sharper than he thought. Tony heaved a sigh, ruffling his dark hair.

"Okay, yeah, I was going to break it to you a little nicer than that," said Tony. "I mean, they didn't officially say anything, but—well—people talk, you know. And I listen. And they're not exactly pleased with the situation."

"And you?" said Thor.

Tony raised his eyebrows. "What about me?"

"Do you…do you not want to either?"

Since when was the toughest, tallest, muscleman straight from a steroids commercial so good at the puppy dog face? Tony heaved a sigh, wondering if now was the best time to test out his tact.

"We owe you a lot," said Tony. "For all your help three years ago. I mean, even Fury agrees. You didn't even have to and you still came and fought your own brother for us. That takes a lot, and we'd be assholes if we didn't appreciate it in some way."

Even if said way was to heal the very brother that they made Thor fight and potentially kill. Irony to Iron Man one-zero.

"I cannot thank you enough, Stark," Thor said, his voice thick (Shit don't cry on me don't you dare cry on me because I don't even know how to comfort Pepper properly when she's teary after watching 'The Green Mile' much less a Norse Pikachu in the body of an Olympic athlete for crying out loud). "I promise you, I will repay you in any way. I will give you and your realm the riches of Asgard. I'll enslave myself into your debt. I'll—"

"Okay, you're making me uncomfortable," said Tony. "Just uh…don't bring him around here ever again, all right? And don't tell anyone about this. The rest of the team, maybe. Clint, maybe not. Fury, probably. But everyone else, no. They'll be mutinous, I'll tell you."

"If it is so secretive, then how will you perform the tests and create the bind to help him?" said Thor.

"Stark Tower," said Tony. "I'll make it at Stark Tower. As for testing him…" Honest to God he didn't want Loki under his roof again. Stark Tower looked magnificent after its rebuilding and he'd hate to have Loki-shaped holes on the tiles (and a Tony-shaped hole through the window if history repeated itself) all over again. But realistically, he had all control of privacy and what came and went through his own tower, unlike SHIELD headquarters that undoubtedly had security cameras in their own urinals. "Oh, what the hell. If you keep a cap on his temper tantrums, I'll bring him in my place to run tests on him. We'll make some excuse about intensive care unit or rehabilitation, no one here will care."

"I thank you so much, Stark," said Thor. He let out a sigh of relief. "When I saw that Loki was not healing as well as he ought to, I feared the worst. But if there is a way to help him, then I can be at rest for a little while again."

"But if he so much as breaks a teacup in my place," said Tony, "we're going to have to have some conflict resolution. Kapeesh?"

"What?"

"Agreed?"

"Of course."

"Good," said Tony, letting out a breath. "I guess that leaves me to run the idea through Fury."

"You want to do what?"

Tony groaned and rubbed his forehead. "Look, I personally think it's a lot more sensible than—"

"Barton, at ease," said Fury, holding up a hand. Clint backed off, but the look on his face was murderous. Tony made a mental note to lock all his doors at night. "Stark, how exactly do you plan to do all this?"

"I'm a genius," said Tony with a shrug. "How else?"

Fury raised an eyebrow at Tony's cheeky grin. "How feasible is this?"

"I think I've dealt with enough crazy projects to figure this one out," said Tony.

"But why?" said Clint. "Why are you even thinking of this? He threw you out your own window."

"I owe Thor, all right?" said Tony. "We all do and we know it. He had nothing to gain in fighting for us and had everything to lose when he battled his brother. Trust me—I have no love for Loki. But I'd like to think I can get out of this debt I have for Point Break."

"We'd be doing everyone including Thor a favor if we just gave Loki a nice kick in the ass," said Clint.

"Yeah, well, I think Bruce's little buddy kind of already had that covered," said Tony. "What do you say, Fury? I mean, SHIELD won't have to play babysitter anymore."

"How is it that you would skimp from nicely phrased requests from SHIELD about certain duties and your suits for a trip to the doughnut store, and then when Loki flies out of nowhere onto Earth you'll drop your plans to accommodate for him?" said Fury.

"You don't have a monster of a big brother, do you?" said Tony.

"Do you have to do it in New York City?" Clint said, bristling. "Can't you find some abandoned island to do it? Far from the rest of civilization? No one knows if once he gets all better he goes on another rampage through town."

"Are you going to lift up Stark Tower and plant it somewhere nice and isolated for me?" said Tony.

"Well damn, don't you already have like, five of your own tower every one hundred miles?"

"All right, the two of you, shut your holes and listen," said Fury. Clint immediately silenced and fixed his attention on Fury; Tony made show of his groan of acquiesce and nodded. "Barton's got a point. Just because the guy is injured doesn't mean he's a threat. This is the god of lies, you remember."

"Yeah. A mute one," said Tony. "I can handle him."

"So here's the deal," said Fury. "I want Thor to be happy as well, but I don't want him or any of us dead. I also would rather blind myself than be caught giving a helping hand to that asshole."

"Well, you're halfway there," said Tony.

Fury glared at Tony until he relented into silence. "You take him to your tower, but I will have agents surrounding the area."

"What? Security breach? Are you serious?" said Tony. "JARVIS is protective enough."

"If you want this plan to work out, you need to compromise," said Fury. "For a job like this, I already know I want Romanoff and Barton in—"

"Nat and I?" said Clint, his face darkening. "Why?"

"Because I know that if Loki does anything suspicious, you two would be the first to shoot his eye out," said Fury.

"Point taken," said Clint.

"And about fifteen more all over the place," said Fury.

"To be fair, Director," said Clint. "If the guy wanted to wipe out fifteen people, he'd be able to wipe out fifteen people."

"Maybe Banner will get angry enough to have the Other Guy subdue him first," said Fury.

"So I have the get-go?" said Tony. He pumped his fist in the air. "Holy shit, yes. Now Thor won't be able to make his damn puppy eyes on me all the time."

"Then what happens?" said Clint. "He gets better, Thor whisks him back to Asgard…doesn't this sound familiar? How do we know he's not going to come back?"

"Thor made a promise to us that he'll keep Loki from coming back ever again," said Tony. "And the faster this goes, the faster we can get rid of him. And then maybe our lives will finally be a little more predictable again."

You again.

For someone who was supposed to be prolific at lying, Natasha could read Loki's facial expressions quite clearly. She didn't know whether it was because of all the training she had in the past or if Loki wasn't bothering to hide his emotions around her anymore.

"I came to collect my prize," said Natasha, closing the door. She had a messenger bag draped over her shoulder, the pouch drooping from the weight. "Remember, what I get for winning the chess game?"

Loki's eyes flickered toward the ceiling and he sighed. He didn't look any better; in fact, he looked worse. His face was gaunt and gray, his eyelids drooping over his hazy green eyes.

She sat herself down on the stool again, letting the bag fall to the ground. She crossed her arms. Loki didn't look at her.

"So apparently you're going to be relocated," she said.

Loki made no sign that he heard, so she continued.

"Stark thinks he has an idea of how to make you heal faster, so he's bringing you to his place," she said. "Didn't they tell you?"

His eyes darted briefly toward the door.

"Thor's not coming with me, if that's what you're wondering," she said.

He glared at her reproachfully. She shrugged.

"What? Isn't that who you're waiting for?"

He sneered and turned to face the opposite blank wall.

"He's having a phone call right now, actually. Calling Jane Foster, if I remember correctly."

There it was. The swift clench of the fists before releasing them discreetly.

"I'm guessing you never met her," she said.

Loki didn't react.

"Last time you came around, SHIELD made sure she was protected. Everyone seemed to expect that you would aim to hurt her while you were here," said Natasha. She raised an eyebrow. "Would you have done that?"

His hands stayed as fists this time. She could tell by the stiffness in his shoulders that he wanted nothing more than to silence her himself.

"Are you jealous of her?" said Natasha.

Loki turned his head sharply at her, his mouth open in a snarl. No sound came from him, although she could hear his tight breath sputter in his throat. His eyes were like poisonous fire, picturing her violent demise in their emerald orbs.

"It's nothing unusual," said Natasha. Who knew that Loki of Asgard would be jealous of a mortal woman of all people? "I knew someone who had an older brother. His brother once had a crush on someone, and my friend was desperately jealous of her because his brother would do all these things for her and think of nothing but her."

Loki raised an eyebrow as if to tell her, I know that you're talking about Barton.

She stared straight into eyes as if to say, Want to bet on that?

"I'll have you know something, for Thor's sake," said Natasha. "Thor loves you. Absolutely, completely. Sure, he loves others as well, but that doesn't change anything. You have no idea how much he's gone through for you. Because of you."

Loki's face was blank. She knew he was thinking something but this time she could not understand.

"He told us how he brought you out of the Chitauri's clutches," she said. He pursed his lips at the mention of his former captors. "How they had you work for them to get the Tesseract. I don't see why you would want to work with them in the first place, but to each his own."

The look on Loki's face was reproachful, and she felt another link click into place. He didn't like that she thought he joined forces with them gladly. Had they forced it upon him?

"Always took you as sort of a lone ranger," said Natasha. "You know, like how you said it would be every man for himself." She impressed herself with how much she remembered about what he said. "Yet you're doing the dirty work for them. Seems to me that you could have gotten Earth's control without all that war. Maybe you weren't as good of a leader as I thought you were."

He gritted his teeth and she couldn't help but smirk.

"It's true, though, isn't it? You could have taken Earth as your own in a much better way than violence. You're a smooth talker and politician, or at least in legends you were. Maybe they embellished a couple of details."

Oh, thank goodness he was mute, because she knew he would verbally tear her head off if he wasn't. His lips were pressed into a thin line of vexation.

"Or," said Natasha slowly, "you weren't the one making the call. It was the Chitauri who had the upper hand on the deal the whole time."

His eyes widened a fraction at her words.

"They always had the upper hand on you, didn't they?" she said.

He licked his thin lips. She thought she saw a flicker of a smile on his face.

Why couldn't he speak?

"Loki," she said. She knew it wasn't her business, and Fury didn't even demand she ask this of him, but her curiosity got the better of her. When things fell into place, they couldn't stop halfway. "Before you came to Earth the first time, before you sent the attack to New York City, did the Chitauri hurt you?"

He did not move.

"Loki?"

He made no sign of an answer. He kept his gaze evenly on the wall, transfixed by its white and flawless stretch. For a wild moment she wanted to take a grab of his shoulders and shake him until the answer rattled out of him, or point a knife at his throat to force him to spit it out. It was a first instinct, the habitual desires of a former killer, and when she realized how her hands were itching into a fist she stopped herself immediately. She swallowed hard and shifted her hands inconspicuously behind her back; she thought she had let go of those tendencies a long time ago.

"Thor told us that the Chitauri took you back. After talking to Asgard," she said, pulling the subject toward a different direction. "They threatened to kill you, but obviously they didn't."

Loki's face looked murderous, but he refused to lose his staring contest with the wall. He looked like he was trying to turn himself into stone, a statue whose ears could not listen to her words and a head whose mind would stop running.

"Were they trying to get something out of you?" said Natasha.

The corner of Loki's lips turned upward.

"Information? Enslavement?" she said.

He glanced at her from the corner of his eyes, one eyebrow raised, as if to say, Aren't you doing the same?

"My tactics are a little different from theirs, I'm sure," she said, her voice icy.

(Because she remembered trailing her hands upon warm knuckles, pouring honeyed poison into ears, letting the dirt and grime of the room sink deep through her pores as she fished for what she needed, goaded, laughed, until her hook hitched onto the truth and she yanked it out, tearing their tongues and breaking their jaws, until those eyes so glazed with trust like glaucoma froze and there was more that was broken than their necks)

"Are they going to come for you again?" she said.

Loki froze, his lips gently parted in shock. He tentatively raised a hand and fingers his chest, his eyes wide and pondering. Natasha sat on the edge of her seat, the excitement jittering inside of her.

"Would they try to take you back?"

Loki turned to face her, and something in his eyes made Natasha falter. His gaze wasn't the cold, spiteful knife that dissected her every thought and movement. They were round, large, like a child's—afraid. Asking if she would hand him over immediately if she were asked. It wasn't an unfamiliar sight in general; God knows how many times Natasha saw the very same questioning, broken gaze after her targets (victims) realized the truth of her ploy. But it had been a long time since she had, and the resurrection of that gnawing past (it's not guilt) startled her.

I guess that's a yes, she thought.

Then it hit her. This was Loki, of all people. Loki who sent an entire army to ravage New York City. The Loki that threatened her with death by Clint, who was so close to hurting those she cared for. Who laughed when the Hulk ripped the helicarrier apart and stabbed Coulson. This was Loki, and he was scared.

The fact that she could reduce him to that state with a simple reminder of his past allies was both empowering to her and disturbing.

"This Thanos person won't hesitate to destroy Earth if you were on it, would he?" she said, her voice soft and casual.

He didn't move a single muscle. In the end, he closed his eyes and laid his head back upon his pillow, trying to block her out of his sight and mind.

She knew that she had frightened him, despite how he tried to hide behind closed eyes and a faceless façade. She wondered if she ought to feel victorious. Manipulation was one thing—fear was cheating.

"I'm just wondering," she said, her tone light. She left his fear and uncertainty hanging until he couldn't grapple whether she was threatening him or merely asking. Whether they would protect him or wait to hand him over at the opportune moment. It was cruel but sadistic.

He opened his eyes again and his lips pulled into a half-smile. It did not escape her attention that his hands were shaking.

Good, she tried to think. Good, he deserves it. He deserves to be taken down a couple of notches.

But the train of thought dissolved halfway through.

(Would you rather have so much pain you are afraid, or be so afraid it hurts?)

She didn't realize that he was reaching toward her bag until she felt it shift from the side of her chair onto the bed. Like a mischievous puppy, Loki tugged her messenger bag onto his lap and dumped the contents onto the bed. Her pepper spray, her keys, her bathroom necessities, and everything else fell onto the covers.

"Hey, stop that," she said, reaching out to take the bag from him. He whipped it away with a glint in his eye.

She shot him a look of incredulity. Was this his way of retaliation?

Thankfully, her personal belongings did not seem to spark his interest, as he disregarded her tampons and pepper spray. He reached for the small book within the pile. She pretended to shift uncomfortably in her seat, which immediately caught his eye. Brushing the messenger bag back onto the ground, he picked it up deliberately and held it tightly to his chest.

Mine.

She would have laughed out loud if it wouldn't have broken her façade of indignation. "I was going to lend that to Thor," she said sharply. "You can't have it."

His fingers tightened their hold on the small book. Were all Norse deities so childlike?

"Come on, hand it over," she said, holding out her hand.

He placed her pile of tampons into her palm. She couldn't help but snort.

"Seriously," she said. "No time for games."

He raised his eyebrows.

"You can have it after Thor," she said.

That did it. He turned to the first page and immediately began reading, as if nothing could stop him.

"You brat," she said, sweeping the rest of her possessions back into the bag. She could have sworn she saw him smirk behind the pages. "By the time I come back, you better be finished and ready to give it over."

He didn't look up from the pages, so he didn't see her break into a grin as she left the room.

She reckoned a nice dosage of Macbeth ought to get her message through him.

It burned. He melted. He was almost certain of it. He could feel his skin crackling, shrinking like paper in a fireplace, flaking away into ash.

"We'll only ask you one more time, Frost Giant."

Don't scream.

"Tell us of these mortal heroes."

He dug his nails into the gritty soil underneath him, trying to hold everything in. Trying to implode into nothing.

"How can they be defeated?"

He pictured Thor torn limb to limb, the Chitauri feasting on the flesh off his bone. He could see the green monster drowning in acid. He could see that woman flayed and tasted like a piece of meat.

He swallowed his screams. He didn't know why.

"What is their weakness?"

(It's in your face, it's so damn obvious, they're human, they're mortal, they have puffed up hearts, that is their weakness and that is their strength, don't you understand?)

"How did they make you fail?"

"How can we make Earth truly ours?"

"Speak."

"Speak!"

"TELL US!"

He burned like a dying star, and for the first time in what felt like two centuries, he laughed.