Loki was dreaming.

Everything was sharply focused, hyper-real. Emotions came at him like a punch in the gut.

Which was exactly what the evil dream-elf did to him. Loki was standing at the top of a mountain, slain enemies all around, a rush of triumph engulfing him at finally having made it through the fearsome battle using only his wits and his dagger. But as he turned, he saw the elf materialize before him and before Loki could take a breath, he drove his fist right into Loki's swollen belly. The shock and pain caused him to double up and lose his footing—he tried desperately to throw out a hand to catch himself, but he was rolling, rolling down the craggy mountainside, and—

And, with a jolt, he woke up. He was breathing hard, and his eyes were assailed by the cool gray dawn giving way to a sunny sky outside the picture window in his and Tony's bedroom. Loki squeezed his eyes shut and put a hand protectively on his stomach, still shocked by the vividness of his dream. "Damn," he gasped aloud. That phantom punch had been so powerful, but now the only discomfort he felt was a slight buzz in his lower back— strange, but not worrisome. He lay still until he came out of the dream-daze, and then snuggled back into his pillows, laughing at the absurd illusions the mind could play in sleep.

No, everything was all right. He was at home—home, he had a home; after being unmoored for so long, he still marveled at that fact—in his bed, on a soft mattress under warm covers, fairly rested after a decent night's sleep. He'd been sleeping better lately, the fetus having taken to moving in mild little shifts rather than with the violence that had so often wrenched Loki awake over the last few weeks. Banner said it was because the creature had grown too large to get any momentum going, and Loki supposed that was true, having noticed that his feet were now obscured from sight by the full mound of his tummy.

He rolled onto his side with a contented sigh. He actually felt pretty well. Stark had made love to him the night before, and it was as if Loki could still feel him holding him tenderly as he thrust inside him from behind. There was a time when Loki regarded his physical body as little more than transport for erotic pleasures, but as his pregnancy progressed, he often felt raw and beaten by the time he made it into bed. Now, he felt enormous gratitude for Tony's gentle care, the intimacy being more valuable to him than the wild sexual exploits of his youth.

He smiled as he reached over to touch his mate, but all he got was a fistful of bedclothes.

That wasn't so unusual—the bed was huge, custom made and bigger than a regular king-size. Tony often slept fitfully and would end up clinging to the edge on his side like a mountain goat, which made it a real chore for Loki to find him when he needed to be cuddled in the night. But now, Loki scanned the many lumps in the bedding, and deduced that he was alone.

"Tony?" he called, looking toward the open bathroom door. No answer.

"Jarvis?" he tried instead. Again, no answer. Now, that was odd. The mechanical man always answered when he called. Loki fumbled for his cell phone and punched Tony's speed dial. There was a brief moment of elation at the sound of Tony's voice, but that was immediately dashed when Loki realized it was Tony's voicemail message. "Where are you?" he grumbled into the phone before slamming it down on the nightstand.

He scrambled out of bed and pulled on a t-shirt and stretchy sleep pants. He stuck the phone in a pocket and then padded into the living area. He cycled through each room, alternating between calling Tony's name and JARVIS's, but neither brought any response.

Loki knew Tony's habits well enough to know it really wasn't worth checking anywhere else but the lab. He got in the elevator and entered a code that would take him all the way down to the basement. Somewhere around street level, he thought he felt another little twinge, this time in his side. He absently rubbed it, his thoughts too focused on Tony to pay it any attention.

He entered the lab and looked around. Nothing looked out of place, but neither was there any sign of Tony. Loki yelled for him and walked around, feeling completely out of his element. He occasionally came down when he got bored or lonesome and Tony was gone too long, but he'd never tried to become familiar with the ins and outs of the space. Partly because it was a little like walking around inside Tony's brain, and partly because it was, well, impressive, and Loki still liked to maintain a bit of superiority where Midgardian attempts to compensate for not having seidr at their disposal were concerned.

None of that mattered at the moment, of course. It was obvious Tony wasn't there, and that left the big gaping hole of a question—where the hell was he?

Loki strode out and took the elevator back to the living quarters, trying to quell a growing sense of panic. He was being an idiot, he knew that. But for Tony to be gone, and for JARVIS to be incommunicado—that suggested that something was wrong, really wrong. Tony had backups for the backups that powered his electronic lifelines, and it was highly unlikely they'd all fail at once. Which made Loki wonder—was someone in the house with him? Had someone disabled the system in order to come in and spirit Tony away? If so, why? And how would he ever get him back?

Or, maybe...

What if Tony had left him? Just gotten overwhelmed at the thought of fatherhood, or, more likely, finally come to his senses about how foolish he'd been to get involved with Loki in the first place? Loki had heard stories about Midgardian men who'd left their families to go out to buy a newspaper, and then never returned. He didn't really think Tony would do that—Tony didn't read newspapers—but what if he did leave, it wasn't as if he'd have any trouble disappearing while Loki was practically helpless, unable to make use of his seidr.

Panic began to give way to anger. How dare Stark leave him there alone, heavily pregnant, with no means of communicating with the outside world—oh. Loki patted the pocket of his sleep pants. Yes. The telecommunication device, he had that. He still wasn't accustomed to using it for anything but calling Tony to demand that dinner be ordered at once, but he remembered that Tony had walked him through finding the speed-dial numbers for all sorts of useful contacts he'd programmed in for him—pizza, 9-1-1, Bruce, Pepper, Thor, Jane, the cable company, even Nick Fury, although Tony had cautioned him—and big time—on only using that one as a last, extreme, end-of-the-world scenario, desperation resort. Loki's finger lingered over the number for a moment as he considered just how dire the current circumstances actually were, but then he scrolled down to Banner's instead and tapped the number.

The scientist answered immediately. "Loki? Are you all right?"

"No," Loki answered, sounding a bit more self-pitying than he intended. "I mean, yes, I'm fine, but I can't find Tony. And, Jarvis won't answer me. I don't... I don't know what to do. What should I do?"

"Did you try calling his cell?"

"Of course I did. He didn't respond," he snapped.

"Okay. Well, Pepper and I are right down the street, we'll be there in a minute. Just stay calm."

"All right."

Bruce could hear the tension behind Loki's words. "Loki—I'm sure Tony's fine. Don't worry."

"Okay." Loki hung up and stared at the phone. He felt better for having heard Bruce's calm, even voice. The man could be unbelievably dreary, even tedious at times, but he had a way of making everything seem... controllable, somehow. Even so, Loki couldn't help impatiently pacing around the Tower entrance as he waited. Moving seemed to keep him focused, and it distracted him from the occasional annoying stabby feeling in his back.

Pepper looked at Bruce with concern. "What's going on? Is Tony all right?"

"I'm sure he is, but Loki can't find him. He probably just ran out to do an errand or something, but Loki's a little on edge these days, understandably. He sounded pretty upset."

"What does JARVIS say?"

"Well—he's not responding."

Pepper's eyes widened. "Uh-oh. Come on, we need to hurry."

"What? Why?"

"Because, if JARVIS is off-line and Tony's AWOL? There's a problem." Pepper took off loping down the remaining two blocks to Stark Tower, with Bruce gamely jogging along behind her.

The two stormed into the Tower, almost running Loki down. He recovered quickly though, and anxiously sought their eyes. "He's still not here. What do we do?" he asked.

"The lab. Now." Pepper spoke urgently.

"That was the first place I looked—Tony's not down there," Loki said irritably.

"You haven't looked everywhere. Trust me, let's go." Ignoring Loki's disapproval, Pepper called the elevator. As soon as the doors slid open, the three got in and took the car down to the lab.

Once there, Pepper strode to a metal-lined side wall. Frowning, she traced a line along the seemingly solid panel with her fingertips. After a moment, she pressed it firmly; a small compartment was revealed, and she leaned in toward a light shining within it. "Retinal image screening," she explained. "Only Tony and I have permissions; he wanted to be sure no one else could access the surveillance system." They heard a soft whirring sound, and then the entire panel slid to the right, displaying what appeared to be a large electrical closet, with circuit boards and rows of switches and buttons on the wall. Pepper stepped inside.

"Oh, God. He's in here," she called.

Loki was right behind her, and at the same instant, he saw Tony lying on the floor, eyes closed, mouth slightly open, jaw slack. He stared for a moment before asking, "Is he dead?" in a dull whisper.

Bruce had crowded in past Loki and was already kneeling next to Tony, one hand on the pulse point of his neck. "No. No, he's breathing, and his pulse is strong. He's just been knocked out." The relief was palpable in Bruce's voice. He looked up at one of the circuit boards and pointed to where a small area was blackened. "I'll bet he got a mild electrical shock and it jolted him backward." Bruce swiveled and indicated a metal tool cart that was lying on its side a few feet away. "He must have hit his head on that and got knocked out."

Bruce gathered Tony in his arms, and the billionaire began to stir. Bruce helped him sit upright, murmuring, "Hey, you're okay, you're okay. Breathe, just breathe. What's your name? Where do you live? Who's the President?"

Tony groaned, reaching up to feel the back of his head. "Owww! What the fuck? I'm Tony Stark, I live in New York City, and... the President? Fuckin' ow, Banner, who knows, I don't give a shit!" He grimaced deeply and now held his head in both hands. "What the freakin' hell happened? My head feels like it's coming apart! OW!"

Bruce examined the area and tsk'ed sympathetically. "Damn. That's one hell of a bump, but the skin's not even broken. Pepper, do you think you could get us some ice? And, some aspirin? This is going to smart for a while." He continued to examine Tony, shining a pen light into his eyes. "I don't think you have a concussion, but we need to keep an eye on you for a while just to be sure. What's the last thing you remember?"

Tony had dragged himself into a sitting position against the wall and was now gingerly rubbing his injury. "Shit, I don't know. Waking up. Wanting blueberry waffles. I called Jarvis, but he reported a sensor being out in the kitchen module, so... Yeah, I came down here to check it out. Don't remember anything after that."

"We think you got a small shock and fell against a cart," Bruce said. "Does that sound right?"

Tony nodded, and instantly groaned again. "Uh, yeah. I'm not the best electrician when it comes to stuff like this. I take a lot of short cuts..."

"I've yelled at him about that for years," Pepper said, handing Tony an ice pack, a cup of water and some aspirin. She then went over to where the overturned cart lay, bent down and picked up a pair of rubber work gloves, and dangled them in front of Tony's face. "Look at this! I bet you've got twenty pairs of these, and you haven't worn them once. You're lucky you're not dead."

"Ow, I know, I know. I'll wear the gloves from now on, I swear. Inside voice, Pep."

"And, you shouldn't do work like that without letting someone know where you are. Poor Loki couldn't find you—I guess you never told him about your secret command station with the auto-close door panel," she pointed out.

"No, I didn't."

"Why not?"

"I don't know, it just never came up. Ow." Tony took the aspirin and then looked around. "I guess there's a lot of stuff I should go over with him one of these days. Where is he, anyway? Is he okay? Get him in here, I need him to pretend to feel sorry for me."

"He's right here—oh." Bruce said, looking over his shoulder to where Loki had been standing moments before, but wasn't any longer. "Uh, Loki?" Bruce got up and went out into the lab, calling Loki's name.

There was no answer.

Bruce helped Pepper get Tony to a chair in the lab and asked her to sit with him while he went to get Loki. He didn't want the injured man riding in the elevator just yet. He gave her instructions on what to look out for in case Tony did have a concussion, and then he rode the elevator up to the living quarters of the Tower.

"Loki?" he called as he strode out. "Where the hell are you?" He heard Loki answer, "In here."

Bruce followed the voice to Tony's office and found Loki standing by the window, looking out into the city. Bruce regarded him for a moment; the god stood in his usual regal pose, except his posture was tilted back a bit, with one hand resting on his stomach, and the other supporting his back. He didn't look at Bruce when he came in.

"Are you okay?" Bruce asked.

"Look at all those people. How can such a small island support all of them?" Loki mused. "The rate of consumption must be enormous. Where does the food come from? And, what about the trash? Where does it all go?"

"You know, I'd love to discuss the New York City waste disposal system with you sometime, but right now? Tony needs you. He's asking for you."

"Hm? Oh, of course. I be down in a bit."

"Uh, no. Now. Come on, he's in pain."

Loki didn't budge, and Bruce stepped in closer. "Hey—what's wrong?"

"All so fragile," Loki said softly, still staring out the window. "I thought Thor had lost his mind when he took up with one, and now I've done the same. What fools we are."

Bruce absorbed that for a moment, and then he nodded. "Okay. I get it. You had a scare and now you're faced with the reality of Tony's mortality. But, guess what, he's still alive, and he's waiting for you, so come on—"

"I'm well aware of his mortality, Doctor." Loki turned slowly to face Bruce. "I knew what I was getting into right from the start, and I didn't care. I was so... so desperate to have something good in my life again. But, I'm not the sentimental sort, you know. I thought I could manage it, keep my heart shielded just enough not to ever be devastated by losing him." Loki dropped his gaze to the floor. "Such hubris. The moment I saw him lying there, unconscious, helpless... I knew I'd failed." He raised his eyes to meet Bruce's. "He'll be gone someday, and I'll be all alone." He shrugged his shoulders and gave a wry grin. "What'll become of me?"

"Loki..."

"No, honestly—what if he'd died down there? What would I do? Where would I go, me and my whelp?" Loki chuckled humorlessly. "I'd be out on the street, without the use of my seidr. I'd have to give birth in an alley, like a rat—"

"Oh, my God, you would not! You're being ridiculous. You have friends, remember? Me and Pep, at the very least. And, I don't know if Tony's done anything about arrangements in the event he, uh, passed, but we'll get him on that right away. I think this incident scared him, too, and he's ready to—"

"That's not the point. I mean, it's very kind of you to offer your friendship, but you—you and Miss Potts—you'll be gone someday, too, and there won't be anyone—"

"I'm not so sure about that," Bruce said in a grim voice.

"What?"

Bruce sighed. "Pepper, yes, unfortunately. But, me?" He shrugged. "Let's just say, I've tried to... not be here. On purpose. And, it didn't work." He gave Loki a meaningful look, and Loki slowly nodded.

"Ah. The green creature... I see."

"Yeah. So, who knows? Maybe I just haven't hit the right set of circumstances, but so far, the evidence suggests I'll be around for a long, long time. So... Don't worry so much. You and I might be tossing back a cold one together for hundreds of years to come."

Loki stared incredulously at him for a moment, and then he laughed. "Well... That's something to look forward to, I suppose."

Bruce laughed, too. "Yeah, right. Listen, you've got a living, breathing Tony who wants to see you. How about it?"

"Of course. Of course, you're right. Let's go."

The two headed out the door to the elevator. Just as the doors slid shut, Loki gasped and clutched at his side. "Damn..." he whispered.

Bruce turned to him, concerned. "What is it, what's wrong?"

"I've been having these annoying pains all morning. I thought I'd slept wrong. But this, ugh... They're getting worse. What could it be?"

Bruce gave him a dismayed look and huffed in exasperation. "Jeeze, haven't you heard anything I've been telling you all this time?"

"What?" Loki asked, bewildered. "You tell me all sorts of dull things, I normally don't listen after the first one." All of a sudden, Loki's eyes widened and he looked down at himself. "Oh, dear—how embarrassing. This hasn't happened since I was a small child..."

"What are you talking about?"

"I, um, seem to have lost control of my bladder, somehow." Loki looked up sheepishly, and Bruce looked down to see a puddle of clear liquid pooling at Loki's feet. He shook his head.

"No, you didn't. And, this confirms what I was just thinking."

"Excuse me?"

Bruce looked pityingly at him, but he spoke kindly. "Loki—you're in labor."

Loki turned a little paler. "Oh," he said with a gulp. "Damn."