Eighty Two

"Tony? Are you okay?" Bruce crept into the darkened room. The glass that littered the floor cracked under his feet. I lay in the pool of blood and glass that was every mirror in my penthouse. I had punched everyone of them out, disgusted with my own reflection. He rushed to my side after seeing what he thought was my lifeless body in a pool of blood.

"Tony, please be alive." He plead, shaking me. I groaned and turned over. "Jarvis! Lights!"

"Jarvis, half lights." I shouted back, covering my eyes. Bruce took in the scene of myself laying in blood and glass.

"What the hell happened here?"

"Drank a lot, smashed some mirrors, tried to kill myself, again."

"What the fuck, man!" He shouted, taking my arms checking me over. "I understand you did something stupid, he left you. But this is not the Tony I know. The Tony I know had women walk in and out of his life all the time, what happened? And how the hell did you not cut yourself on all this glass?"

"I didn't do anything stupid! I've told you, I was drugged. I have no memory of that night! This is all a misunderstanding. I just wish I could tell him that." I shouted at my friend.

"Okay! I believe you! Still, how do you not have any cuts with this amount of blood?"

"I still don't understand that." I grabbed a large piece of glass, digging it into my wrist. Bruce grabbed me and stopped me. The cut I had made quickly healing up. "I don't understand. It's like he cursed me to live through my agony."

"Well, maybe you should have thought before sleeping with his brother."

"I didn't! Well, I guess I did. But I don't remember, there was a sedative in my system the next day. Jarvis's memory was deleted from that day, there's a lot that doesn't add up. He was perfect and didn't deserve this. I want him back."

"Okay, I believe you. But how are you going to go about proving it?"

"Jarvis is restoring the information from that night. Deleted information is never lost to someone who knows computers." I explained through tears.

"I need to get you out of here." He lifted me the best he could, as I really wanted to be left alone in my sorrow. We walked to the bathroom.

"Come on Tony, get out of those blood soaked clothes. Don't make me treat you like a baby. I'll be right outside the door. Don't do anything stupid." Bruce shut me in, but I heard his voice as he made several phone calls.

I sighed, but undressed. Every place I shoved glass into had healed back up. Under happier circumstances, it would have been a blessing. This felt like a curse, being forced to stay alive without him. I missed him so much, his touch, his smile, his warmth, his kisses, his love. I started crying anew.

I got cleaned up and put a robe on. Bruce had the bed made up for me. He was sitting in an arm chair with a small leather bound book. I sat on the edge of the bed. He had laid out some clothes for me. I gingerly got dressed.

"Tony, what language is this book written in?" He looked up and showed me the book.

"Probably Elvish." I said not looking up. "He has a lot of books here in Elvish."

"This looks handwritten, are you sure?" Bruce forced the into my face. I took it from him to throw, but stopped recognizing Loki's handwriting. I flipped through the pages, all in Elvish.

"Where'd you find it?"

"It was between the mattress and box frame. I found it while I was changing the sheets." He shrugged.

"It's in his handwriting."

"Did he keep a journal?"

"I don't know. If it is, I want to know what it says." I jumped up. "Gather every book written in Elvish."

"Tony, what are we doing? You need to rest." Bruce chided.

"We're going to learn Elvish. Jarvis, you're helping." I rushed around the room gathering the books I'd seen Loki reading. I threw some books into Bruce's arms.

"What are we doing?" He looked at me confused.

"We are going to feed all of this into Jarvis and start translating it. Come on let's go."