Three weeks to the day since Loki was first brought aboard S.H.I.E.L.D.'s helicarrier, he returns. Tony would say that this time he struts in like king of the castle, but in all fairness, he did that the first time, too. So he struts in again. It's just that now, instead of chains, he's wearing a sweater vest. Instead of being locked in a cell he's in an engineering lab, and instead of an escort of armed guards, he has Thor lurking around making that overprotective big brother face and scowling at all the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents through the glass wall. They've come full circle and landed back in some strange, alternate universe. It's the Bizarro Avengers Show, featuring Professor Loki, Evil Tony, the Olsen Twins, and... Okay, Bruce is still the same. Maybe.
"I think I might be turning into Evil Tony," he says to Bruce as the two of them sit on the counter that spans the lab's far wall.
"Yeah?" Bruce asks. "How can you tell?"
"I dunno. That's the tough part. Outwardly, I don't know if there'd be any signs, since Good Tony already has the devilish facial hair going on. Maybe if I shave it off? Maybe Evil Tony would try to fool everyone with his clean-shaven, suburban dad style?"
"If you start wearing a lot of black leather, I'll worry."
Tony nods. "That would also be a good indicator."
"But does that mean Evil Loki is now Good Loki with his new Harvard law school preppy look?"
"No, he's still Mostly Evil Loki. You don't even want to know what I had to bribe him with this morning to get him to wear that outfit." And by that Tony means, I don't want you to know what I had to bribe him with this morning to get him to wear that outfit.
Bruce's wry smile as he leans back against the wall seems to indicate he read too much into that. "Uh-huh."
Shit. It's probably best if Tony just leaves things right there. And maybe changes the subject. "So," he says, looking over across the lab to the Tesseract portal device. "Do you think he knows how to work it?"
The wry little smile on Bruce's face turns into an all-out grin at the sight of Loki leaning over, experimentally prodding at one of the number pads, and backing up with a frustrated scowl. "After all that garbage yesterday about how we pathetic little humans will never have the ability to master the Cube's power? I sure hope not. If you watch him closely, it looks like he's spent the last half hour searching for an 'on' switch but is too conceited to ask for help. Unfortunately for him, the startup requires a thirty-seven character security passphrase, then this." He pulls an LCD key fob out of his pocket and passes it over to Tony. "The fob displays a code that changes every fifteen seconds. You have to enter the first one, the second, and the fourth. If he ever figures that out..."
"What primary power source does it use?"
"Well, that's the thing. It's also not plugged in."
Seriously, Tony shouldn't be this amused at Loki's expense. And maybe he should be defending his darling's honor or something. Chivalry might apply to antagonistic wizards trying to figure out electronic doomsday devices. But to be fair, the bullshit about human inferiority does get pretty tiresome after a while. "Are you going to show him how to use it?"
"Eventually," says Bruce. "Selvig and I actually ran all our tests at a S.H.I.E.L.D. research site in Pennsylvania, since nothing on this ship is strong enough to get that thing going. Maybe once I'm tired of watching Loki try to get it to work – which will probably take hours, because I find this pretty funny – I'll suggest we take it back to Stark Tower, wire it into your reactor, and really get things started."
"Hm. You may want to look into growing a beard. I think you're turning into Evil Bruce."
While Bruce answers Tony with a smug smile, across the room, Loki looks like he's about one step away from picking up Selvig's machine and hucking it into the ocean. He's muttering to himself. Tony can see his lips move, but whether he's just talking things through like a mad scientist or spitting out reams of expletives... He's too far away to hear.
"Anyway, on a more serious note," Bruce says, turning the conversation back inward, "do you think he's really going to do it? Open the portal back to Asgard and leave quietly? Or is this just a big fat red herring before he screws us over?"
Tony sighs. "You're uncertain about the plan too, huh?"
"Not so much uncertain as uninformed. But now that I hear you say that... yeah, I'm uncertain. You're the one who knows him best, Tony. I think it should be your call on whether or not we can trust him. Based on what you know, do you think he even wants to go back to Asgard? Or when he gets that portal open, are we going to see Grand Admiral Thrawn and an armada of hostile aliens on the other side?"
"Based on what I know?" Tony echoes back. Based on what he knows...
What does he know? Truthfully? In all honesty? If he steps away and looks at himself, and looks at Loki, what does he know? Anything at all? Can he say, with any sense of surety, that Loki would or would not do A, B or C in any given situation? Could he even begin to guess what Loki might be thinking, behind that indecipherable veneer of his? Tony's known people in the past who were difficult to read, but Loki? Loki's a goddamn manifesto written in a secret alphabet. Paragraph after paragraph is hidden in the straight line of his mouth, the rigidity of his shoulders, and the fiercely guarded depths of his eyes. He bristles with unknown punctuation when he pushes his loose hair back from his forehead or rests his chin on his clenched fist.
What does any of that mean?
It means that Tony Stark doesn't know shit about the guy who shares his bed every night (and morning, and some afternoons), that's what it means.
"Tony?" Bruce prods after moments of silence.
"Um," says Tony, breaking that unpleasant current of thought. "Sorry. I... Yeah, I don't know if I'm the right person to ask. I'd say of all of us, Thor is the one who knows Loki best. Not me."
"So you're saying, since Thor trusts Loki...?"
Yes, except Thor's shoulders carry the weight of one major tragic flaw: he desperately wants to trust Loki, and is maybe even incapable of doing anything else.
"Let's just say Thor trusts Loki for now. And we might as well, too. It's a tough call. On the one hand, he calls himself Loki the Snake and admits he enjoys backstabbing and double-crossing people. On the other, right now, between Thor, the rest of the Avengers, the HYDRA guns, and the Tesseract interfering with some of his magic, he's outnumbered and outclassed. As long as we keep that balance I don't think he'll be able to do too much damage."
"Loki the Snake, huh?"
"Old nickname from his younger days."
"I guess that makes sense," says Bruce. "Did you know: 'Loki' is the elvish word for 'snakes'? Well, actually, 'lóki', with a long, acutely-accented ó, but still. Apt name."
"Really?" Tony asks. "Huh. That might just be the nerdiest bit of trivia I've heard all day. But what would make it even more impressive is if you'd said 'Lóki' was the quenya word for 'snakes'. There's no such language as 'elvish', Bruce."
"Duly noted, hotshot," Bruce replies with a nod. "Though who's more nerdy, the nerd or the nerd who corrects his fantasy conlang?"
"Probably the nerd who alters Star Wars quotes to make his point."
"Yeah, well, pray I do not alter them further."
At this point Tony probably would have fallen to one knee and proposed that he and Bruce be the grown-up equivalent to science fair partners, except a rule exists stating that where the Avengers are concerned, interruptions happen at the most inconvenient times.
"Guys!" Steve shouts from the opposite corner of the lab. "If work isn't getting in the way of your personal conversation, do you want to think about helping out here?"
"Sorry, Cap," Bruce calls back, followed by Tony's, "Sorry, dad."
"Can either of you get this thing up and running? We've wasted almost an hour."
Tony doesn't even need a cue to look over at Bruce in the exact moment Bruce looks back at him. Eyes meet. Damn, it's hard not to evilly smirk.
"Us?" Bruce asks, eyebrows rising in that beautifully innocent way. "Why would you need us? I was under the impression Loki could take everything from here."
"Does he look like he's taking everything from here?"
"I'm fine!" Loki snarls from behind the Tesseract's pale blue glow.
"Are you sure?" Bruce asks him. "You don't need me to, say, turn on the power for you?"
The corrosive glare flashing out from Loki's eyes looks like an intimidation tactic. The kind of intimidation tactic that might work under the normal circumstance of Loki wearing his Asgardian leather and giant helmet. In a sweater vest, though, he looks about as dangerous as a grudge-toting member of the debate team.
"Let me get that for you," Bruce goes on when Loki remains spitefully silent. "Sometimes you need a pathetic little human's meager computer expertise to kickstart things. But keep in mind," he says as he punches in the codes and components begin to light up, "this only activates the battery that powers the start-up mechanics. You won't be able to run anything more than system diagnostics and a few basic processes to align the beamline magnets until we get this thing hooked up to a real power source. But I can show you how it works. Where do you want your portal?"
Loki manages to hold on to his death-gaze for an impressive full minute longer, while Bruce does nothing but calmly stare back at him.
"I mean, you could stand there all day and shoot eye daggers at me," Bruce says. "But that's not going to do a lot of good for either of us. Or you could take a swipe at me with those fists you've got bunched down in your pockets, but the other guy wouldn't like that very much. So how about we do what I suggested yesterday and try to get along like adults. Where do you want your portal, Loki?"
Somewhere over there, and go fuck yourself, is the wordless answer in the flip of Loki's hand before he sullenly stalks away from the Tesseract to sulk at Tony's side.
"What's the matter?" Tony quietly asks him. "Hulk got your tongue?"
"I am in no mood for your idiotic jests, Tony Stark," Loki hisses back.
"Are you going to threaten to make a cape out of my skin or use my eyes as golf balls? Because you know I love it when you talk vicious to me."
That little lip-twitch there means Loki's trying real hard not to ruin a good pout by smiling. Goal achieved. But he turns away from Tony before his resolve cracks, watching closely as Bruce steers the portal device into a horizontal position, pointed at the far wall.
"Now if we had the necessary power input," Bruce explains over the hum of machinery, "it would be possible to focus the length of the portal beam by adjusting storage ring capacity and orientation of the dipoles. We can set a focal point of anywhere from about three and a half meters to... I don't want to say 'infinity', but the upper limit would be determined by the stability of the beam itself. We don't know what that is until we test it out. Loki? You want to have a closer look before we move on to the next step?"
"No," Loki coolly replies. "I can see that it works."
Bruce looks up at him. "You sure? I can show you the controls."
"I can see everything from here."
With one of those 'if you say so' shrugs, Bruce punches another code into the keypad and the device's whirring whine begins to slow and its lights fade. "Then I guess the next step is to-"
"Take it outside," Loki interrupts.
"Outside?" Steve asks with a frown. He glances over at Wondertwin Thor, today dressed in a sky blue button-down shirt contrasting Steve's brown checks, in a heroic quest for answers. But Thor looks just as confused as everyone else.
"The helicarrier's generators aren't anywhere near enough to bring this thing up to full power," says Bruce. "We need a massive energy source just to push the Tesseract into cyclical sustainment mode."
"Tomorrow," says Loki. "Today, we are only testing, and I have no need of any external energy source for the time being. I opened a gateway once already using nothing more than my own strength. All I need now is for you to take this device outside, Dr. Banner. If something goes wrong, if your calculations are incorrect and the beam does not correctly focus, it could cause too much damage if I tried to operate it in here."
"Loki worried about causing damage," Steve mutters just loud enough for Tony to hear. "Now that's a new one."
"If we set a trial outside, it could serve as a demonstration to all the agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. that the device is operational," Loki continues. "I would think they'd prefer I open the portal under full supervision rather than down here in secret."
"You can actually do that without the power source?" asks Bruce.
"Do you doubt me, Dr. Banner?"
'Doubt' might not be the right word for whatever's displayed on Bruce's face as he slowly crosses his arms over his chest and looks away.
"Director Fury?" Steve speaks into his headset. "You copy that request?"
Yeah, he does. Tony'd be too surprised if S.H.I.E.L.D. didn't have this place wired up to record every sound that passes through the room, down to the smallest sniff of breath and rustle of clothing. Steve's intent frown as he listens to an answer only confirms that suspicion. Fury, or somebody on Fury's behalf, has been spying on them since the beginning
"Oh yes," Loki adds, addressing Steve now. "And tell them I will need my scepter."
A moment of hesitation washes all other expression from Steve's face. "Your..."
"My scepter," Loki repeats. "It's rather crucial to this operation, since I cannot physically touch the Tesseract myself without... consequences."
Again, Steve looks to Thor, who can provide nothing more than a sad shake of his head. He knows exactly as much about that scepter as everybody else, which would be a grand total of nothing about what it does, nothing about where it came from, and nothing about what Loki might be able do with it. It's an unknown variable in their carefully constructed equation.
"Director?" Steve asks the headset. The reply that comes through, hidden in Steve's ear, is long and rambling. For several seconds, all he does is bob his head in a constant stream of vacant nods. "Yes, sir," is the final reply. Then he turns to Loki. "Director Fury will personal bring the scepter up to the deck. He'll let you use it, but he's warning you that after all the tricks you've pulled so far, there'll be two dozen guns at your back ready to blast you down at the first sign of any funny business."
"Not very trusting are we?" Loki asks with a smirk.
"I have given my word as guarantee," Thor says, stepping in. "Loki fights alongside us now. There is no need for your weapons."
Steve's forged steel glare, though, stays right on Loki despite Thor's assurance. "I mean it. You're authorized to test the portal and that's it. You do anything that even hints at an attack? They're going to shoot."
Loki rolls his eyes. "No need to worry, Captain Rogers. I expected nothing less."
ooo
For the end of July, it's cold as a penguin's ass on the carrier deck. Cold, windy, the deepening sky looks like it might dump a river's worth of rain at any minute, and waves the size of suburban houses keep slamming against the hull, spraying salt water everywhere.
"How about we put this thing up in the air," Tony says to Agent Hill, standing on his left-hand side. "Above the clouds, out of the impending storm."
"Do you know how much it costs to keep this thing flying?" Hill answers back without even looking at him.
"No, but give me a notepad and a couple minutes and I could probably come up with a good estimate."
She has no reply for that. Not even a raised eyebrow. No, she just looks stoically ahead, over to the end of the runway where Bruce is leveling and adjusting the portal device, aided by two S.H.I.E.L.D. tech helper monkeys, while Fury hovers bat-like around them in his usual black leather ensemble and eyepatch. (Wait, is he evil?)
"Where's Dr. Selvig?" Tony asks. "You'd think he'd want to be here for the big reveal."
Again, not even so much as a look from Hill. "We have him in a secure location. Understandably, he expressed a desire to leave last night once he learned Loki would be here today."
"Right. I get that. Kind of how I feel whenever I see the S.H.I.E.L.D. logo approaching."
And that comment brings out a disgusted grunt from Agent Hill's throat. So she's not a robot, after all. Whether that's good news or not... Tough call. Tony's always been partial to robots.
Looking around the runway, it appears that the gang's all here to witness the spectacle. Loki, Banner, Fury, and Thor are positioned down at the end, swarmed by what has to be at least half the staff of the helicarrier scrounged up for security detail. A little up the line and across the deck, Romanoff stands with a guy who can only be Agent Barton. Every so often she sends questioning gazes over Tony's way, which Tony, hiding behind sunglasses despite the dark sky, pretends not to notice. But Barton's eyes stay glued on Loki. Coulson and his sidekick pace out a triangle from Fury to Romanoff to Hill, relaying information and trading cryptic agent-speak over headsets like 'initiate white protocol section fourteen' or 'standby level six for alpha-alpha-nine positions'.
And then there's Steve, who opted to stand at the back of the bus at a safe distance from all the shenanigans.
"What are you doing back here?" Steve asks as Tony saunters over to join him. "No scientific interest in what's about to happen?"
"What are you doing back here?" Tony flips around on him.
"I've seen the Cube in action before, Stark. I'm happier keeping my distance this time."
"And that would be my reason as well," says Tony. "Except for the seeing it in action part. I'm just relying on the judgment of the guy who knows what's about to happen."
Good call, says Steve's silent nod.
"Besides, I'm way too valuable to be accidentally exploded by space magic. I'll go in once the guinea pigs have tested it out."
Shouts from Agent Hill hook his attention back over to the end of the runway. Selvig's machine is powered up to the level it was back in the lab, with its Gatling gun snout pointed off into the cloudy horizon. Fury hands the scepter over to Loki with a frown so deep his face looks like it's in danger of turning into a permanent tiki mask. All around, gun barrels glint in the weak, gray light as Hill barks out her orders.
"Kalsi! Henderson! Godet! Once that portal opens, your teams hold focus! Anything comes through I want you to blast it down before it touches the deck! Everyone else has arms on Loki and eyes on me! We're on high alert here! I give the signal? You shoot!"
The words are out of Tony's mouth before he can stop them: "Loki won't try anything. He's not that stupid." Fuck, his voice sounds tense. Tight and too high-pitched, and louder than he meant, like it's fighting to be heard over the sudden taiko beat pounding in his heart.
"There has to be at least fifty HYDRA guns on him on top of the regular firepower," Steve replies, "and Thor's right there with the hammer. It'd be suicide to step even an inch out of line. What can he do?"
"Nothing," says Tony. And repeats, "Nothing, nothing, nothing," because maybe saying the word out loud enough times will make it true. "He's really not that stupid. But on second thought? I think I do want to be up there."
Closer. Yeah, he needs to be closer. He breaks into a jog when the scepter flares blue in Loki's hand and the Tesseract in turn begins to glow with mirrored light. What can he do from closer? Watch? (Watch as Hill's stormtroopers shoot Loki down with – no, that's not going to happen, Loki's not that stupid.) It doesn't matter; he just needs to be closer. Beside Fury, right here. It's as far as he can go before Bruce grabs his sleeve with a shake of the head and a shout to stand back, though the warning's drowned out by a sound like a jet engine firing up. Tony lifts a hand to shield his eyes against the glare of the Tesseract as it explodes with life and light so bright it's almost blinding.
What happens next? Well, whoever it is behind him that yells "Holy fuck!" sums things up pretty well.
A cloud, is Tony's first thought. But a hollow cloud. A hollow cloud of electric white and blue, and at its center, a hazy tunnel that seems to stretch on for miles. The tunnel's edge glitters with stars and the rainbow nebulae of a distant solar system. A crystalline road spans out into the darkness, drawing the eye along its path.
Then a city of gold, spires reaching almost to the skirt of space itself, impossible towers shining by the immortal fire of the gods...
At Tony's side, a stunned-looking Bruce reaches shakily into his pocket, pulls out his Blackberry, and snaps a picture.
"Asgard!" Thor shouts in triumph.
But the triumph is short-lived. Only seconds after the cloud's hollow center solidifies into a distinct image, the Tesseract begins to shudder and dim. First the cloud evaporates, then the beamline, and then the machine shuts down entirely, blue light dissipating into the darkness of the sky. The connection between the Tesseract and the scepter is broken, and Loki...
The scepter isn't even in his hand any more. It must have fallen to the deck while Tony watched the portal, and Loki looks like he's about three seconds away from joining it. With a colorless face and posture like a half-strung marionette, Loki takes a staggering step back. His knee bends.
Tony's too far and not quick enough to even try to catch him. But Thor is close and inhumanly fast.
"Loki!"
The two sink down to the pavement, Loki's limp body gently cradled in Thor's arms. But he's moving. Loki's moving, still conscious, still in control of himself, trying to sit up. He's too weak to do anything more than lift his head and curl his shoulders in, but trying is a good sign.
"Loki," Thor says again. "Are you...?"
"I'm fine." The words are faint, but they're firm.
A grin as bright as a solar flare lights up Thor's face. Carefully, he maneuvers Loki into something like a sitting position, one hand on the small of Loki's back, the other splayed out and grasping his neck. "You did it, brother! A success! Home! You found the way home!"
"Of course I did," Loki mutters through ghostly lips before his eyes drop closed. "I'm the most powerful sorcerer in Asgard, am I not?"
ooo
Amid the frantic anthill of confusion and disbelief on the carrier deck after Thor carries Loki inside, nobody notices Tony leave. Somewhere to his left, Fury is hollering out orders to secure the portal device and make sure power is cut, while up ahead and to the left Coulson negotiates with Banner that he can keep his phone photo as long as it doesn't end up on Twitter. ("I don't have Twitter," Banner insists. "Or even Facebook!") Tony passes through the crowd invisible. Nobody's paying attention to him. Why would they be? Everyone on this ship just saw a hole open up in the sky, revealing the depths of space and a world beyond. After that, the actions of one guy seem pretty insignificant.
So Tony follows Thor at a distance, watching as he takes Loki into an empty staff cabin and waiting until he comes out again almost twenty minutes later. Some brotherly cuddling? Knowing them, probably. Tony waits another ten minutes to make sure Thor's really gone before slipping through the cabin door and locking it behind him.
The room Thor chose has all the charm and elegance of a Lutheran college dorm. Loki's resting on a narrow and utilitarian bed, carefully arranged in something close to a fetal position, all tucked in snug under an ugly, sock-gray blanket stamped with the S.H.I.E.L.D. logo. Everything about him looks worse than ever. Too frail and weak and anemic with clammy shadows under his eyes and in his lips. His face against the pillow is literally at least as white as, if not whiter than, a sheet. These sheets, like the blanket, have a dull gray cast. He let the magic go too far.
There's a chair in the corner of the room (plastic, brown, cafeteria-style), which Tony drags over to the bedside. "Hey," he murmurs, lifting a stray curl of sweat-damp hair back from Loki's forehead.
"Tony Stark," Loki whispers in reply, opening his eyes.
"Jesus. What did you do?"
"What do you think I did? I opened the way back to Asgard." And that's punctuated with a classic, unspoken, you idiot. Even with such a faint voice, it's amazing how well he still manages to sound like a condescending asshole.
"You know we could have taken Selvig's machine back to Stark Tower and powered it through the arc reactor. You didn't have to nearly kill yourself trying to keep the portal open for so long."
"And miss out on your magic sex?" Loki asks with a shadow of a smile. "How soon you seem to have forgotten last night's request that I try to use an excessive amount of magic today. Of course we could have powered the device in other ways, but things are so much more fun like this, aren't they?"
Stunned, Tony can only stare at him. "This was... You did this on purpose?"
"Everything I do has a purpose, Tony Stark. It's all part of the plan."
"What plan?"
Loki doesn't answer. He only smiles a little wider and holds out his unsteady hand.
Do not touch Loki under any circumstances ever, the rule went at one point. It served its purpose then. But things can change. Facts can turn around into polar opposites, given the right incentive.
Tony reaches out to lace his fingers through Loki's. He likened the magic to a lightning strike once, back in the beginning. Like a shock. An electric surge through his body, shutting everything down and replacing all thought and reason with singular, primal need. And in a lot of ways, it's still like that. It still crashes into his bloodstream and saturates his bones with an addictive demand for more. It still saps his willpower and the majority of his strength. The difference this time, though, is that now he wants the magic as much as the magic seems to want him. And that feeling, that welcome sweetness pulsing into him and throbbing straight down between his legs, is better than any high.
His hand squeezes, and Loki squeezes back. The other finds its way to Loki's waist as Tony leans out of his chair to kneel on the floor beside the bed. One touch isn't enough. He needs two hands here to reel in that rush of power. He slides his fingers under Loki's sweater vest – actually, on second thought, that stupid sweater vest has to go, up over Loki's head – and pulls at the buttons on Loki's shirt.
The healing effect of even the smallest split-second of contact is immediately evident in Loki. (Just like magic, really.) Wherever Tony touches, color blooms in his skin. A pink flush, strong and warm with desire, begins under Tony's hands and flows out through Loki's veins. Up through his arms. To his neck. To his cheeks, burning away the deathly pallor. Draining away Tony's energy, replacing it with...
(Oh, that feeling, that feeling, that effervescent feeling...)
"Come here, Tony Stark."
There's no more airy frailty in Loki's voice. Nor in his body as he sits upright in bed, holding out both arms to wrap around Tony's shoulders. No, no more frailty or chalky weakness when Tony falls impatiently against him. Just driving need. His hands rake down Tony's back to the hem of his shirt, pulling it up and off while Tony scrambles at the waistband of Loki's pants, popping the button and pulling down the fly by touch alone. Clothes fade away so easily. Loki lifts his hips at Tony's urging, Tony shuffles forward out of the fabric pooling around his knees, and suddenly they're down on the mattress with skin against naked skin, hot and smooth.
It's almost enough just to touch. Almost enough, as he slides between Loki's eagerly parted thighs, for Tony to be perfectly content with just what his hands can do. Dragging his nails down Loki's sides, feeling the ridges of his ribcage and the angular bones of his hips. Pushing Loki's knees farther apart and feeling the satin-soft skin down the inside and backs of his legs. Palms cupping the firm curve of his ass... It's almost enough. Every touch comes back to Tony in an echo, like a ghost inside his skin, caressing and stroking and embracing him in a way that nothing else can. Magic in his blood. Magic in every nerve. Loki radiating through everything, inside and out.
It's almost enough, but it's not enough, and it'll never be enough, because all of this will never truly be his, because...
"Don't go," he growls with his teeth on Loki's neck.
The hitch of breath snaps through Loki's whole body. "Don't...?"
"Don't go. Don't go back to Asgard. Fuck Asgard. Send Thor on his own with the Tesseract, but stay here. I need you to. Stay here."
"You need-"
He bites down hard on Loki's throat, drawing out a gasp as Loki's legs wrap tighter around his waist. "Stay here."
Just stay here.
With me.
Until we both drive each other insane and probably ruin our lives, because this is a terrible idea.
But until then? Stay here.
Loki whispers a reply on the trailing end of a kiss. "I never planned to leave."