A/N: Yup, I'm alive! Very, very late, but alive. So sorry for the delay, folks! The next chapter should be up by the end of the week.
Leaving the hospital was not such an ordeal as it had been in the past. Though Loki cringed to see the same nurses who had treated him with such belittling concern on his first visit, he was no longer afraid to speak to them, and stepping outside was only daunting for the look on May's face as she and Peter arrived to help him home.
An unnecessary precaution, really, but the hospital, the police, and the family themselves had insisted on it, and Loki was not going to risk upsetting his hostess any more for the sake of a little pride. May had only been able to come by twice during his stay, and she had the second time delivered such a speech to the reporter unlucky enough to make the same stop that the poor man had gone home in tears. Formidable though she was, it was obvious to Loki that she was as worried as she was angry, and little wonder. He had seen photographs of a husband, noticed the way everything in their home was set for three, seen coats hanging in the closet that could not have fit Peter or his aunt. And he had seen the boy's wounds, the scrapes and black eyes and cuts that he seemed to collect, traced over his body like a spider's web of secret meetings and truths they all shared but would not acknowledge.
He knew that he was only one more person for this woman to protect and lose, and he was not proving himself to be any better at avoiding trouble than her nephew. Yet if there were some reason for that trouble, then Loki would not allow himself to avoid it- Stark claimed to know him, and he would sacrifice an hour of his time and a little caution if it meant discovering what the scar on his temple had taken from him.
He had not yet told any of his coworkers about his plan, despite knowing well that they would hardly miss Stark's appearance come Saturday. He rarely worked afternoons on the weekend, and was anyway given liberty to time his own breaks as he pleased- if he was on the clock when the man arrived, he could alert Linette and step out. It would have been ideal that they not be aware anything had happened, but Loki knew he was hoping for too much even to consider that.
It would have been nice, however, if he could at least hide it from the press.
Unfortunately, his hopes for that were growing increasingly dimmer, and he had not yet even returned to work. He'd been ordered at least four days of rest, and on the third May interrupted her usual ritual of forcing upon him ridiculous amounts of honey-laden tea to inform him that Kim was waiting for him on the phone. After figuring out how the contraption worked- not entirely easy, with Peter waiting by to "assist", which in his personal language apparently meant laughing copiously and providing next to no instruction- Loki had been informed that the public had somehow learned he would be returning soon.
"Okay, you know, I'm pretty sure that Jack just got all grumpy about you getting all the attention and let it slip, but joke's on him, 'cause he's basically just made you more famous, and he'll have to deal with cooking for all the weirdos who come in to gawk at you." Her tone was flippant, and Loki imagined the dismissing wave of her hand that usually followed such comments. "But whatever; the point is, people are going to want to see you. I just thought I'd give you a heads up, at least. Linette despises reporters in all forms, so they won't really be getting inside, but you should probably sneak in through the back, just in case. And make sure Peter walks with you, in case any other superheroes try to strangle you on the way."
"I doubt even my luck could allow such a thing to occur twice in one week," Loki assured on a sigh, throwing a glance toward Peter. "And I will see. He's hardly had a moment to spend not protecting me of late."
"Of late? Who even says that?"
"Shut up, Peter. But whatever the case I shall think of something, Kim. Trust me, I have no desire for another experience like that." Loki's hand came to his throat as it so often did lately, the bandages having grown long familiar to his touch. "Thank you for the warning. Are you all functioning without me?"
"Other than an alarming increase in Anna's pouting levels? We're doing just fine. At the very least, we'll function until Thursday. You'll be okay by then, right?"
"Of course."
"Good. Then again Stark's got more money than the US has debt, so if you feel like passing out go right ahead. I love filing company insurance claims against famous assholes."
Loki only smiled, but said nothing to the joke. "I'll let you get back to work, then. Enjoy dealing with customers without my refreshing wit to keep you company."
Kim laughed- sharp, sarcastic, but familiar. "Yeah, I think I'll survive. See you Thursday, Kaiser."
"Loki."
"What?"
"My name. Stark said it. I... do not know if he is correct, but it sounded right."
"Well, okay then. Guess it's good enough- I mean, the way Anna goes on about you you may as well be a god. See you later, Loki."
He repeated the farewell, and listened for the click that always preceded the end of a call, at least so far as his books had taught him, then returned the phone to its receiver, fumbling only momentarily. Peter barely gave him a moment to breathe, and then, "So, what was that about? I mean, I didn't even know they had this number. It's kind of creepy actually. Are you being stalked by your gay coworker?"
"No. Nor by the straight ones either, before you get in your head to ask. Linette has a number on file, as you should know, being the one to give it to her. Kim probably just asked for it." Loki hardly knew why he bothered to give the explanation, fully aware Peter had only asked in the first place because he had this ridiculous and endearing notion in mind that he was funny. "Apparently I can expect a bit of a crowd when I go back to work. People want to see Stark's handiwork in the flesh."
"Oh, yikes. They would not be thinking like that if they'd seen you right after he got at you. It was like something out of a horror film. Actually, you weren't either a naked chick or dismembered beyond recognition, so never mind. Um... a bad or extremely violent medical show? No, CSI. I think CSI is closest."
"Peter, I have never seen any movie, let alone whatever it is you're talking about," Loki pointed out, laughing at Peter's seemingly thoughtless rambling. "Care to elaborate?"
"Um… lots of dead people, lots of dramatic and unrealistic dialogue, and lots of questions about who killed the dead people. So replace the people with your memories and we're all good! Or, you know, almost you. That could've gotten… it was pretty scary." There was a brief flicker of that weight beneath Peter's jokes, and then his eyes brightened once more, seeming to fuel his smile. "Hey, you know, that picture of you in the hospital was in newspapers everywhere. Maybe someone'll recognize you. And um-wait, that didn't go so well last time. Someone who isn't an uncharacteristically murderous superhero?"
"Such unrealistic expectations, Peter! They have to be at least a little murderous, or where's the fun?" Loki asked, sharing the smile and feeling as always that his face was not entirely used to the expression. Odd, as he had been doing it a lot since waking.
And yet it vanished quickly enough too, recalling how they had made a point to keep pictures of him to the hospital and themselves originally, for fear that whoever had given him that scar might return. He had more enemies than Stark to worry about, and he doubted most would be kind enough to attack him in broad daylight.
May's call for dinner rang above his thoughts, and he turned toward Peter with a comfortable smile, both of them knowing full well that it would simply not do to let one of her meals grow cold. Aside from the rudeness, and her intolerance for such behavior, she was an outstanding cook, and Loki saw no need to let a little paranoia distract him from a bowl of her beef stew. She had been piling food on everyone's plate but her own lately, taking as much as she liked but never seeming quite satisfied until both boys had eaten a substantially filling serving. Peter liked to complain with whining affection, but Loki only ever smiled and forced himself to eat as much as his throat could withstand, knowing for one that he needed the food, but mostly enjoying the concern.
He did not know why, but he got the feeling that what May offered the two of them was very special, and felt at the same time more foreign than anything else he had experienced, and achingly there, familiar but just out of reach. And wonderfully melodramatic as that was, it was only another thing Loki hated, and another reason he had to meet with Stark on Saturday. If things went poorly… well, Peter would be nearby, and that meant that ridiculous outfit and what came with it could not be far off. He didn't particularly like the idea of having a child as his protector, nor the risk that he might get hurt, but he was hardly going to shun the offer.
And in any honesty, for his curiosity alone he would have gone with less security than that. Though this time, he would not be taking his eyes of Stark for an instant, whether he held that briefcase or not.
The thing about normality was that it faded into the background. You couldn't explain something you had simply always known, and Peter had forgotten that, in taking them for granted, people had dreams, often woke without remembering or thinking about them, and at other times were left with the remnants of images.
Or no, not really, he had not forgotten the act itself, but rather that Loki, whose information came mostly from fiction, probably assumed they were some sort of common fantasy element that writers liked to indulge in for drama's sake, or at the least only came with amnesia-inducing wounds and couldn't exactly be called normal. In the maelstrom that was his mind lately, Loki's nighttime hallucinations occupied a pretty small space.
On Saturday morning, a blessing for any high school student whose free time was not at the mercy of his AP history teacher's weekend lectures, he woke up, as usual, around six in the morning. Not so usual, however, he did not burrow under his covers and hide from consciousness for another half hour, but bolted to his feet as if someone had let off a gun next to his ear. Considering how things had been day one, Peter thought he'd gotten pretty good at dealing with his senses, but there were still times when his ears picked up on something and his mind just could not register that it could be that loud and not close.
Because it had sounded like something had been growling about an inch from his head, and he'd give a medal to anyone who didn't wake up to that and freak out at least a little.
He wasn't sure at what point the realization came that he had lost all control of his life, but it was probably around the time he calmed himself with the sad truth that this was very easily explained by Loki's presence across the hall. It apparently wasn't enough that he had developed arachnid superpowers, life had to throw him the weirdness of having a snarling amnesiac sleeping in the spare room.
He got up as quietly as he could, which was easy after all the years spent trying to avoid waking Aunt May, and threw on something more decent than a pair of boxers before hurrying out of the room. Creepily enough the growling sound had not stopped for more than a second at a time, and was pretty loud by the time Peter made it to Loki's door. He knocked to no avail, spent a minute or two preparing himself to seem like a creep, then slipped into the room, clicking the door shut so Aunt May wouldn't be woken in the same way he had.
He was sneaking into a guy's room in the early hours of the morning, wearing boxers and a t-shirt. At least it was just Loki, he probably didn't know enough for this explanation to get awkward.
His back was to Peter, and he was shaking, but in a way which was less scared and more… creepy. "Uh, Loki? You're being kind of freaky here. You okay?" The shaking stopped, but Loki did not reply, and so Peter went to the tip of his toes, trying to get a glimpse at the man's expression, but it didn't prove exactly effective.
He knew better than to just reach out and grab him by the shoulder, so he shuffled instead around the bed, hoping to gauge Loki's expression in sleep and instead letting out a rather unmanly squawk when he found the man's eyes open. Loki had apparently been staring almost fiercely at the wall, and now looked up at Peter, expression unchanged and harsh. "He was different."
"Uh…" Okay, there wasn't much more eloquent than that for Peter to possibly say, so he left off there, wondering if this was weird enough to merit a call to the hospital.
"Than the rest of them. He was different." Loki looked away on the words, muttering the first portion to himself and then snapping his gaze back to Peter, jaw tight with frustration. "Why?"
"Who was different, Loki?" Peter asked, trying to keep his voice as neutral as possible.
"Stark."
Well, that made sense. Loki hadn't met too many people, most of them women, and Stark really did stand out… but he had a feeling it went beyond that. "How was he different?"
"I… I do not know." Loki frowned, and his anger became confusion, his glare now a look of internally-faced concern. "But he was! I am… sure of it."
"Hey, don't worry, I believe you. Do you, uh… do you know who he was different from?" He was expecting another baffled negative, but Loki's face perked up somewhat and he nodded, looking viciously pleased with himself.
"His friends, from all that trouble in Manhattan. The ones you speak so highly of."
"Y-you know them?" The only one who had been at the worksite the day Loki had come with them was Stark, and as far as Peter could imagine no other Avenger had dropped by his daily life, either. Of course, there was an explanation available that kept his confusion at bay, but could do nothing to ward away a sense of dread. Never mind that he might have gained a flash of memory; the more Loki fit in with what Stark had expected from him, the more likely it was that he was exactly who the man had thought he was.
And judging by his reaction upon seeing him, that person was not somebody Loki wanted to be.
"No. But… I saw them." Again, Loki's gaze drifted downward, his attention shifting seemingly toward himself, eyebrows drawn together as if in worry. "I… was I here a few minutes ago?"
"Yeah, physically. You were dreaming- you know what that is, right?" Loki nodded, looking sleepy and confused but no less manic, so Peter hastened all the more to assure him. "Right, so you didn't actually see anybody. You're fine."
"Are you sure?"
"Positive. Plus, I think you might still be kind of asleep right now." Largely because the man was now glaring at the floor as if he were entirely alone with it, and about to enact some weird carpet-based vengeance. "Just lay down and, uh, get some rest. Big meeting today with the guy who tried to kill you."
"Right. I have been looking forward to that." The man- though Peter's faith that he was just that was starting to weaken- lay back, head against the pillow, but continued simply to stare at the ceiling, eyes open.
He looked so distracted that for a moment Peter genuinely debated waiting around to make sure he didn't have some kind of psychotic breakdown. Then again, he was feeling twice as creepy as he liked already, so he made his quick and awkward escape from the room. He had three hours of history to give his mind over to, he could worry about Loki after that. And then move on to a few hours of patrol, criminal baiting, and finally whatever homework he could squeeze into the night.
Yeah, no big deal.
As had been predicted, much of the cafe's business over the next few days came from public more curious about Loki than the food. He had received multiple attempts at informal interviews, a few moments of unkind praise, and had customers dissolve into shouting fits, though none could blame him on any basis beyond his angering of Stark. It was difficult to work when you were the sole focus of a few dozen people's investigative indulgence, but his hours were short, and often as not he had been kept to bringing orders upstairs, where the seating was too minimal to allow any excessive crowding or harassment.
Whatever the case, it was nice, come Saturday, to find that the hordes had thinned their numbers to an almost reasonable amount, quite a percentage of which consisted of usual customers who had long since given up their interest in that bit of gossip. Loki did not know why, or perhaps how, the multitude had lost their interest, but he had seen stranger things and was happy enough to accept the one that worked in his favor.
At least until Stark walked through the door, two minutes to midnight, hands in his pockets and not an ounce of concern in his expression. Loki, leaning over the counter to deliver word of an order, jumped to attention upon catching sight of him in the fridge's reflection, blocking Anna's view of the new arrival as effectively as he could manage. "Loki? What-"
"Hm? No, nothing. Do not worry. Just a minute. Linette, I'm going on my break! I might be a little while. Is that okay?" Loki called out, stepping to the side to prevent Anna's attempts to pear past him, alternating between trying to assure her there was no need and peeking past her toward the owner.
She was deep in argument with someone on the phone, and only gave him a slightly bemused look before waving, flustered, for him to go on as he liked. The cafe was nearly empty, and Loki's services would not be missed for an hour or so- but there were people enough that Stark, who had stopped to pick up a menu with infuriating casualness, was beginning to attract quite a bit of attention and disbelief from the could not risk anyone stirring up a scene, and though he knew the man's weekly visits could hardly go unnoticed for long, he did not want them revealed so soon.
"Thank you!" He reached out for Anna's shoulders, halting her newest attempts, and met her unimpressed look with a slightly flustered smile. "Yes, I am being weird, I apologize. Bear with it awhile longer?"
"You're lucky I like you."
"So I am. Hold the fort a moment, I'll be back." She seemed momentarily hopeful about something, but Loki's mind was eighty percent devoted to Stark even as he spoke with her, and so he turned and hurried away without addressing the problem.
His footsteps caused Stark to turn, smiling and lifting a menu, seemingly pleased by his approach. "Hey, there we go. Y'know, I never got my coffee from last time, seems pretty poor customer- whoa, hey, I was looking at that."
Loki, fully aware he was only making things more obvious, merely divested Stark of the menu and turned the man around by his shoulders, hurrying him toward the door even as he finished speaking. "Stop talking. What do you think you are doing?" He hissed as soon as they were outside, away from attentive and unwanted ears. "How am I supposed to keep you unseen if you barge in there like this?"
The man, surprisingly unperturbed by his ejection from the cafe, merely quirked an eyebrow. "What am I, the grungy prom date mom and dad can't know about? 'Cause let me tell you, subtle that was not."
"No! But… well, I am sorry, but I'm going to be blunt. Linette would sooner throw you in the fryer than serve you a drink, and you will fare no better with any of the other employees." Except Jack, of course, but he was hardly a concern. Loki felt a little embarrassed for his flustered behaviour, but he did not want this to become any more problematic than it had to be, nor did he want his friends to worry. Peter and Gwen were two people more than he wished had to bear that burden, though luckily neither was present- what had held them up, exactly, he could not spare the time to wonder. "You cannot come inside the building. There are tables here and nobody should mind if we make use of them."
"Seems a bit public, don't you think?" Jeez, how thick did Loki have to lay on the 'clueless amnesiac' act before he was satisfied? Tony had more doubts than he'd have liked, but he still couldn't quite believe the guy's reasoning. If he hadn't had SHIELD set them up with a little privacy, the place probably would have been mobbed with reporters by now. "Hey, your ground, we'll play your rules. So, can I sit here? Not gonna whisk me away again, are you?"
And at that Loki actually cast his eyes downward in apparent apology, which was wrong in ways Tony could not even begin to comprehend. "Of course not. I am sorry, sit where you like. Would you like anything to eat? If you will wait, I can go and order for you."
"Nah, I'm good." The chairs, woven metal, were horribly uncomfortable and the table wobbly, so that any degree of authority Tony might have allowed himself vanished the moment he folded his arms over the table and felt it tilt toward him with a creek, flopping listlessly back as soon as he shifted his weight. Wonderful. Loki, a moment later, sat across from him, hands resting politely in his lap. "So, we've got a bit of a problem here."
"What may that be?"
"I have a lot of questions I'd like to ask you, but you could be lying through your teeth for all of 'em. So, step number one, you're going to put this on." He had promised nothing but himself and his clothes, but Tony fished nonetheless through his pockets to withdraw a small device, about the size of a slightly chubby quarter. He held it out and, with some hesitance, Loki took it from his palm, holding it gingery between two fingers.
"How do I do that?"
"Just press it to your temple. The pretty one."
Loki complied, moving with a sort of distracted fascination. "What it is?"
"Lie detector. Sort of. See, those things aren't exactly accurate, and genius though I am, if you are who I think you are, I can't be sure it's even checking for the right brain waves. But it's a start." It transmitted directly to his phone, which Tony now withdrew and arranged so that it leaned against the napkin holder, screen visible to him but blocked from Loki's view. Everything seemed normal so far, but the chip was scanning for more than just lies, and the more reactions he could get the better. "Long story short, it lets me look in your head. Ideally you'd have a few more elsewhere, but we'll make due."
"Very well. What is it you wished to ask me?" Loki wondered, and Tony watched the screen with passive interest. He could not, unfortunately, sense genuine curiosity with his invention, but it was nice to hope.
Because really, despite his interest in the truth of this, and the fascination he had felt toward Loki even at his most crazy, Tony did not want to be here. He had his bracelets, but his suits were miles away, SHIELD was on-call but not deployed, and he was… scared. It was a lot easier to dismiss the threat a psychotic Norse god offered when you had a much less psychotic Norse god on your side; not to mention the Hulk. Looking at Loki meant looking at the Chitauri and right through that black hole, until it took everything out of him just to breathe.
Tony was nothing if not stubborn, however, and he didn't let an ounce of that reach his expression. It was easier acting calm in front of Loki himself than Fury, somehow. "What's your name?"
"You know better than I do."
"I want to hear you say it."
"Loki." The god hesitated, and Tony, who had no idea what his full name even was, tried to look anticipatory, like he had any way of confirming the next word. "There is more, but I do not know it. Loki is all I have. I was Kaiser before, after the hospital."
And Tony still could not believe that anybody in their right mind had decided to name this piece of work 'Emperor'. "Do you know how we found out about you?"
"No. Who is 'we'?"
"Friends of mine, don't worry about it yet. Sorry to tell you pal, but there's a group of highly trained professionals who spent an hour or two studying a picture of you mostly naked. What makes you think they could be wrong after that?"
Loki seemed pretty perturbed by the knowledge that government agents were so much more familiar with his body than he had probably ever wanted them to be, but he kept, with surprising politeness, to the matter at hand. "I- Do not, really. I am not familiar with such things. It is possible this man you mistake me for simply looks a lot like me. Do you have pictures of him like that?"
"We don't exactly go around collecting them, nope."
"Well, as I recall, my face was not too clear in Anna's photograph. It is possible your men jumped to a conclusion."
Fair point, as Tony and many others had already considered, but it was worth getting Loki's personal view. "Uh-huh. What do you know about that name of yours?"
He seemed to perk up at that- obvious both in his expression and what the phone showed. "Well, there is a Scandinavian deity to whom it is often attributed, and I suspect I was named after him. Though… I do not imagine it is very common."
"Not exactly. Well, not outside of poorly researched fantasy novels, anyway." Better not introduce this guy to any of those- if he was Loki and had lost his memory, Tony didn't want to give him any ideas. "Do you remember anything? Whatever it is, let me have it."
"Words. Well, in a sense. I know them as I see or hear them, but I cannot recall something if I am attempting to say it myself. The reading helped. I remember how to walk, and do such things as that. I feel as though I may have been rather lonely, for living with Peter and his Aunt feels very strange, even comparatively." Loki's mouth remained poised for words a few moments after they have ended, a look of hesitancy replacing his confidence, and Tony waved impatiently for him to continue. "I might remember a few things. From... dreams. But I cannot say if those come from what I have seen since waking, or from before."
"All right. No family, friends, long lost dogs?"
"Not that I know."
It must have been convenient, having a nasty scar like that. A simple 'I don't know' was all Tony could get for most of what he asked, and neither Loki's tone nor the device gave him any reason to doubt. Infuriating as it was, he was either a very good actor, not human, or honest. And, considering the situation, it was as likely as not that he was all of the above at once.
A few people wandering past the cafe had slowed to gawk, and Tony doubted they had much time before one of Loki's coworkers got fed up and came out to check what was going on. "Okay. Well, do you at least know who I thought you were?"
"I would like to."
And damn, did Loki look eager. Tony found it almost disturbing, knowing the answer, but in a way could not blame him. If hearing words he'd known told him there meaning, maybe he believed hearing about specific acts of his would jog something too. "You've been to Manhattan, haven't you?"
"Yes. I saw you there- and I think you saw me."
"Yup. That's why I got SHIELD's security looking for you." They never would have paid half a mind to that picture otherwise, even if they were constantly scanning for sightings of supervillains. Watch on Loki had been rather lax, seeing as nobody had even managed to contact Asgard, let alone reach or escape it, since his departure. "None of that sparked anything? No happy memories in all those destroyed buildings? Didn't you get all warm, fuzzy, and nostalgic when you saw the graves? Nothing?"
Loki stared at him with an expression of such pain that Tony nearly believed it, the maybe-god's words seemingly abandoning him in a flash of shock. "You- you think I did that? Are you mad? Look at me. I could hardly destroy an entire city alone."
"Not alone. The Chitauri gave you a few thousand hive-minded hands, no big deal. Remember that word?" He may have been being cruel, distress obvious in every outlet he had to read it, but he didn't bother to back down. "Looks like it."
"I have heard it before," Loki admitted, after a slightly elongated silence, his voice softer than it had been. "I must have. When my headaches grow bad, I feel… something. That sounds correct."
"They're an alien species, not an illness."
"I know. And they are cruel. I want nothing to do with them, and I assure you that whatever interaction we may have had together was not pleasant. I can tell you nothing more." Loki spoke with a sudden sharpness, more defensive than Tony had seen him yet, even at the hospital visit, and, with a great deal of effort, he swallowed down his retorts.
This Loki definitely looked like the one Tony knew, but nothing piled up in quite the right way. It seemed almost as possible that he was one of the god's victims, maybe someone who had been stuck with a nasty spell during the attack that changed his appearance, wiped his mind, something to give the real him an easier time in fleeing Asgard while everyone distracted themselves with this guy. Far fetched as it was, Tony allowed himself to entertain the idea as a background thought, at least until they could get a real idea of all this. Fury was flying Jane Foster in for consultation in two days, and whatever she could clarify would be a hell of a lot more concrete than any of this.
"Fine. No more about them. But you know, if you are the same guy, what're you going to do about it?"
"I suspect I would be arrested, yes?" Loki shifted nervously in his seat, eye no longer quite meeting Tony's. "Or killed, considering your original response. I do not know the standard procedure for punishing one who cannot recall the crime."
"Well, it's not exactly a 'standard' situation. Jeez, could you just- stop with the puppy eyes, okay? Right now, we're finding out who you are, that's step one."
"I thought step one was the chip?"
"Okay, step three. Whatever. Stop being technical, that's my job. Speaking of, you can take that off, now," Tony said. He had gathered as much as he could theoretically make use of, for the time being, and more than he had really expected. These meetings were never going to be all too productive, and their point wasn't to produce direct results. He had to be happy with what he got, and focused on what was made available.
Loki obediently removed and offered up the chip, which Tony pocketed once more, along with his phone. "You can keep going, ya know."
"I'm sorry?"
"If I'm right. About what you would do."
"Ah. I suppose you mean personally?" Loki gave a smile closer to a grimace, and shrugged. "I do not want you to be right. I enjoyed helping those people, and it is difficult to think I could be the cause of their grief. But I do not wish to be forced to suffer in atonement for something I have no recollection of, either. Make no mistake that I feel terribly that there is even cause to consider I am to blame, but I would rather give aid than seek forgiveness with my own pain."
Stark had been remarkably unaffected by his words during their little chat, and Loki had begun to find it unnerving, considering the weight they had left on him. He did not know what he had expected to come from this, but the heaviness in his stomach was far from welcome, and Stark's disinterested look even more so. With that admission, however, something changed in his expression, and Loki, meeting his eye, found he was not quite so put off by what he saw there. Curious, perhaps, but there was something familiar in the look that put to rest a few fears of his own just as it seemed to stir them up in Stark.
The man began another question, but had gone through no more than the first few words before Loki heard his name, if his it really was, called from nearby, and turned to see Peter making his hurried approach. Gwen was not with him, and he could tell even from this distance that the boy was more a mess than would have been acceptable for his Saturday course, but before he could rise and voice his concern Stark was on his feet, and Loki could not be sure which to address first.
"I'd rather not deal with boy wonder right now, so let's wrap this up. I'll be back next Saturday, but you're going to call before then," he informed, scribbling a number down on a napkin and sliding it toward Loki. "And you better not forget, I'll waste away in longing before then."
"Do not worry, Stark, I will not deprive you of my voice for long," Loki assured, the sarcasm coming easily now that Peter was about there, and he was not alone with this… unorthodox man. He folded the napkin neatly and slipped it into his pocket, ignoring the incredulous look his meticulous manner earned him. "What am I calling for?"
"An appointment. I'm setting you up with a neurologist, and a pretty girl who will not, sadly for you, be your date. Drag your security teenager if you must," Stark conceded, meeting Peter's eye with no visible shame as the boy pouted in response, his narrowed eyes a little more genuine than they may normally have been. "Oh, and I'm taking your blood. From the hospital, they've already got it. Thought I'd let you know, even though you can't really stop me, legalities aside. Just to be polite."
"You are the pinnacle of good breeding, I thank you."
"That is so wrong, coming from you. Enjoy your food for thought and the number, not many get either from me. And good luck."
Stark nodded, hands very pointedly shoved within his pockets, and with no further adieu turned down the street and was soon gone from sight. Peter waited a few moments beyond this, then turned to face Loki, who was staring nervously after him. The man flinched, and pressed a hand quickly against his uninjured temple, eyes tight in a flash of pain, but simply continued to stare once that had, seemingly, faded, hand resting where it was.
"Are you okay?" The headaches were nothing new, and Peter didn't think for a second he needed to confirm that they were not the point of his question. By the look on Loki's face- uncertain, maybe scared, definitely a little sad- he was right.
"I… not really. I will be. Come on, I have taken too long already. Come inside, I won't be much later," Loki assured, his voice a smooth but not entirely convincing transition from shaken to bright and upbeat. He smiled, and shrugged, and Peter did the same in reply, following him into the cafe with the silent promise of an explanation to come.
A block away, meanwhile, Tony was just climbing into his car, working rapidly over his phone in the background of every action, firing data back and forth between SHIELD and his own private servers- some of it even with their knowledge. He was in the middle both of both an intersection and an email when his typing was interrupted with the alerting fanfare of a text-message, and in his momentary envelopment of frustration upon reading nearly stopped short in the middle of both.
Whoever had given Capsicle access to a cellphone was public enemy number one in Tony's private books- or number two, depending on the results of his inquiries- and it was either a miracle or a horrible design flaw that the man had discovered how to use it. Months, and he had only sent out one message, a few days after New York, to let them know he was settled, and wondering if they all were as well.
Then nothing, not even a word from Fury, who had complained often enough about every other absence when one of the team went missing. And now?
Stark, it's Rogers. I'll be arriving in New York ETA 5 hours. We need to talk, bring the others if you like. How about the park?
Tony's groan was enough to merit a clipped alert from JARVIS, suggesting that he please refrain from throwing the phone through any windows, and not for simple sarcasm's sake. He should have been excited, really, that another teammate was rolling in, given the circumstances, but it was with a feeling of deep annoyance that he gave the verbal command to send an affirmative. Cap was undeniably badass, regardless of the circus-freak uniform, and so very moral, and probably already had some idealistic plan for working the truth or memory out of this Loki-or-maybe-not-Loki.
But right now, Tony saw him as just another problem to add to the list, imagining the many ways he could ruin everything with that propaganda-poster mentality of his. Still worse, he was imagining the lecture that article and Loki's bruises was going to earn him, and hating the prospect all the more for knowing he deserved exactly what he was going to get.
As if things weren't complicated enough.
A/N: Sorry if this was an odd place to stop (and for all the weird moments of anst). It was either break off now, have a weird cliffhanger, or wait awhile and post a chapter twice as long as this. Instead, I'll give y'all another hopefully within the week. Also, sorry this was later than Ao3 got it- poor fanfic slipped my mind!