There is a thin line between what should have been and what is. Oftentimes, it is not as discernible as it should be. Sometimes you stop just before you cross it. Sometimes you're tossed head first and can only hope you don't break your neck in the process.
Tony sits in his lab, staring down at his hands. These are the hands of a killer, builder, and destroyer. The hero part comes last and he doesn't think it even matters at all. Not anymore at least. What use is he or any of his technology if he can't save the people he cares for?
He thinks he hears a sound behind him but doesn't turn to look. Bruce has been staying in the tower with him, just in case, S.H.I.E.L.D. says, he needs the company. He knows the real reason, though. It's just in case Tony's urge to give into his sadness overwhelms him and he decides to take that final step off that cliff. All the way to the irreversible and everlasting sleep.
"I know you're there. I can hear you breathing," the inventor tells him quietly. Bruce huffs out a small laugh and enters further into the lab. He pulls out an extra stool to sit in and remains there. After several minutes of uncomfortable silence, the scientist can't take it anymore.
"Have you eaten?" he asks his friend. Tony looks up at him, eyes sunken and shining with a terrible agony.
"I thought gods were supposed to be immortal," the inventor says in a voice that sounds like two pieces of sandpaper being rubbed together. Bruce shifts quietly, not knowing what else he should say. He's most definitely not a psychologist since he doesn't exactly have the temperament required for the profession. But, he still has to try anyway.
"Tony, maybe you should take a break...from this. I think you'd feel a lot better once you get some sleep," the man suggests. Tony's gaze slowly drops to the floor. There is a slowly building pain in his chest and he distantly thinks his arc reactor might have stopped working. He looks down to see it in perfect working order. The pain is just in his head then.
"I don't even think I ever told him that I loved him." It seems that the inventor has become intent on ignoring him or has become genuinely unhinged. Bruce has to assume it is the latter. He rises from his seat and takes the inventor by the arm.
"Come one Tony. I'm going to put you to bed and in the morning, we're going to see if you'll eat something," he tells him. As soon as Bruce's hand touches his arm, the man's brain suddenly kicks into gear and he explodes.
"Don't touch me!" Tony snaps, pulling away from him. Bruce pauses. He backs off and takes a couple steps backward.
"Tony, it's been two days and you need food and rest. You can't just stay down here all day and do nothing," Bruce tells him. Tony stares at him, brown eyes wide and clouded.
"Who the hell are you to tell me what I can and can't do," he yells back. Bruce slides his glasses off and pinches the bridge of his nose.
"Tony I know this is hard for you, but you need to accept that you can't change anything. Loki is..." he trails off as he realizes what he's about to say. He wants Tony to come out of his funk, not crush him.
"Don't you dare say that," Tony snarls. The inventor stands, knocking over his stool. Bruce looks up, startled.
"Tony, I didn't mean to-" he begins, but Tony speaks first, his voice rising in volume and pitch.
"You don't know shit, Bruce. You know nothing about what I'm going through," Tony says. Bruce looks at him and feels a pang of sadness for the man.
"Tony calm down. I'm sorry, but I need you to come to terms with the fact that this happened, but you're not alone in this, ok? We're all here for you no matter what," the scientist insists. All at once, Tony begins to tremble, running a hand through his hair.
"You think that just because you're a doctor you can fix me. Well, guess what. I can't be fixed! You can't fix this. You've still got Steve, so you can't tell me what the hell to do. You just...Shut. Up!" Then the inventor collapses onto the floor all at once, feeling as though his world has been turned upside down.
Bruce jumps to his feet and goes over to check the man's vitals. He rubs a hand against his forehead, pretty sure the man is dehydrated. When he sees Tony begin to come around again, he grabs a bottle of water from the mini-fridge the inventor always has in the lab and cracks it open.
"Tony, I'm going to need you to drink this," Bruce tells him. Tony looks up at him, shaking his head. The scientist sighs in relief when he takes the bottle and raises it to his lips. When Bruce sees that Tony stops with about a fourth of the water gone, he figures that's enough for now.
"You're starting to scare me, man," he tells the inventor as he takes the bottle back and screws the cap on. The inventor tries to fight back a yawn that suddenly comes on him. He's starting to feel relaxed...and sleepy.
"You bastard..." Tony says in a slurred voice.
"You put something...in my water," he says irritably. Bruce smiles apologetically. How else was he going to get Tony to get some sleep? Bruce shrugs and puts an arm around Tony's waist to hoist him up to his feet.
"Come on, up to your room you go," he says. Tony mumbles something that suspiciously sounds like a 'fuck you'. Bruce doesn't give him any type of response except to tighten his grip when he feels Tony begin to slide downward.
He's sure Tony will feel better in the morning. If not, then he certainly hopes there's a host of S.H.I.E.L.D. doctors that will be ready to help him should it be necessary.
Thor sits at his mother's bedside, watching her chest rise and fall. He half wishes that she remains asleep during the rest of his visit, but as her eyes open he sees that this is not to be the case. He looks to his father who stands on the other side with a solemn look upon his face.
"Thor," Frigga says slowly. She smiles and tries to sit up. The god rises and places a hand on her shoulder.
"Don't," he tells her. She smiles and lays back down. She can sense something weighs heavily on him and waits for him to speak of it should he feel the need to.
Thor bows his head and takes a deep breath. Odin already knows about Loki's demise and has decided that the job of telling his wife will be his and his alone. Thor is only there to ease the pain. The king takes a step forward and sits near her on the bed.
"Frigga," he says softly. The queen looks to him, his demeanor causing her to worry. She places her hand in his when he offers it and he squeezes it gently.
"Has Malekith been defeated?" she asks. Odin nods.
"He has. Thor has made the realms very proud to have him and his Midgardian friends." Odin has a bit of pride shining in his voice and Thor can't help, but feel guilty. Loki isn't here to enjoy this moment and it saddens him.
"I sense that is not all you have come to tell me," she prompts. Odin sighs and shakes his head.
"Frigga, there were many casualties in the aftermath of the Battle of Greenwich," he tells his wife. Frigga eyes him with a peculiar look on her face.
"As is the case with all battles. You should know that. Both of you. You certainly have been in enough of them," she tells both her husband and son. Thor forces himself to smile when she looks at him. It's a hollow feeling that he doesn't like, but he does it for his sake more than hers.
"Frigga, there is something else you should know," Odin says slowly. She turns to look at him. Her face softens when she sees the look on his face. Her face falls and she takes on a somber expression.
"Thor, where is your brother? Has he decided to return to Midgard after all?" she asks. Thor feels his whole body jerk. He shakes his head.
"Frigga, Loki was fatally injured on Svartalfheim. Because of the severity of his injuries, he did not survive," the king finally tells her. Frigga nods slowly.
"Have the proper actions been acted out for the funeral?" she asks in a softer voice than usual. She is saddened by the loss of her son, but she is still the queen and must act accordingly. Thor shakes his head.
"Not yet, but I will make sure everything is taken care of," he promises. Frigga smiles and he leans down to kiss his mother's cheek.
"I figured as much," she says. Thor licks his lips to moisten them. His mouth has suddenly gone dry and his head has begun to hurt.
"I was with him when he died. I...held him as he passed on," he says to his mother. She smiles sadly.
"Before he died, he told me to pass a message to you, mother. I'm not sure if what he was saying will make much sense because it did not at the time and still does not now, but it was his last wish and I shall honor it as he wanted me to." Thor takes a deep breath as he looks to Odin. His father gives him a slight nod and Thor begins to speak.
"He said that he was sorry...about a baby. I don't know what it means, but that's what he said," he tells her. Frigga's eyes widen and she fights back tears.
"Oh Loki," she breathes. Thor frowns.
"Does that mean anything to you mother? I figured perhaps it was a secret code of sorts." His mother nods slowly. She takes a deep breath and pushes herself into a sitting position much to the horror of the men.
"Thor, you may have trouble believing this but Loki was pregnant," she says. The god can't help the confusion that follows this sudden revelation. He stares at her.
"Pregnant?" he asks hesitantly. Frigga nods. Odin pushes himself to his feet and stands to look out at the kingdom from the balcony.
"Why did he not tell anyone?" the king demands. Frigga scoffs.
"He told me," she points out. The king grimaces.
"Yes I suppose he did, but why not the rest of us?" he asks. Frigga shakes her head.
"Because he was ashamed," she says after a long moment of debate. She was unsure whether or not to reveal such personal information about her younger son that he didn't want anyone to know, but she feels it doesn't matter now. Thor frowns.
"What could he have done that would cause him shame?" her son asks. Odin quietly comes to stand beside him.
"Would it have anything to do with his being Jotun?" Thor asks worriedly. He knows he tried his hardest to convey to Loki that he didn't care if they shared the same blood or not. That they were still brothers and that was what counted. Frigga smiles sadly. Slowly, she removes her blankets and sits up even more as she swings her legs around the side of the bed.
"Because of the birth father, I can only assume," the king says. Frigga nods. Thor stares at his parents who seem to be passing mental notes back and forth.
"From what Loki has told me, I can only guess who since he has never told me directly," she says. Thor looks on with worry as his mother makes her way over to the balcony to get some fresh air. They follow her at a comfortable distance.
"Loki never spoke openly about what he went through at the hands of the Other and his ally. Not to anyone but me. Even though I know he didn't tell me everything, I do know is that there was much abuse. Much of it was of a sexual nature," she tells them.
Thor has to sit. He doesn't want to hear this, but he doesn't have the heart to tell his mother to be quiet. He doesn't want to imagine the horrors he knows Loki went through all those months ago, but he can only sit and listen as he hears it anyway. When his mother finishes, he feels a great sense of awe when he thinks of Loki. His brother who embodied so much hidden strength is no more.
He rises to his feet, suddenly determined. He will honor Loki by bringing him home for a proper pyre, no matter how long it takes. Odin watches him as he goes, not saying a word. He knows his son's inner struggle with what happened on Svartalfheim is a hard one but he must not interfere.
Lorelei stares at the magical barrier they have created. It is a rift in time, composed completely of their essences. It means no one will be able to open it except for the both of them. Which also means should one of them die, it will be lost to the realms forever. It also just so happens to be her ticket to staying alive should she ever face judgment from Asgard.
"I did not think we'd be able to do it, but here it is," she says. Loki grunts from where he lies on the ground. He is exhausted beyond measure and there is a distinct pain in his abdomen. Vaguely, he worries for the sake of the child he carries within him but pushes the feeling down. At least, he is still alive to see the results of their work.
"You are of little faith Lorelei. If one of us had attempted to do this single-handedly, we would have died. But together, even in my weakened state, we are a force to be feared," he tells her. Loki rises from the ground, his body feeling heavy and disconnected.
"I fear this is where we part ways," he says. She turns to stare at him. Surely he can't be serious. But when she sees his face, she realizes he is. There is no trace of any discernable humor on his face.
"How can you just leave me here? You must take me back to Asgard and tell them of what has transpired. This thing we have created requires both of us to operate it." The sorceress eyes him for several long moments. Her eyes widen.
"But not unless you do not, in fact, plan to open it again. Ever," she says. Loki sighs and begins to walk away from her.
"Relax Lorelei. I do not plan to abandon you given our history. I do plan to take you to Midgard with me. Perhaps you may find something useful to do there with your time to aid the Avengers," he tells her. The woman glares at his back.
"I will do no such thing. I will not work for mortals. I am a sorceress of Asgard. It would be demeaning to do such menial work."
"Then I suggest you find yourself another powerful being to attach yourself to. It matters not if I come back for the Tesseract. The world is better off without its use ever again."
After he gets a few more feet away, she sees he's not coming back. She runs after him, not happy that he is ignoring her. If they hadn't reached a temporary allegiance, she'd have put a knife into his back right about now.
It is a full day and a half before he can bring himself to return to Svartalfheim for Loki's body. When he does, the scene that greets him proves to be both perplexing and disturbing. He doesn't know how to comprehend it.
Thor is sure this is the very spot he left Loki's corpse in. As a matter of fact, he is more than sure of it. He remembers the terrain around him from that day almost perfectly. He frowns.
The god begins to walk in a random direction to clear his head, to try to make sense of his jumbled thoughts. After half an hour, he comes upon a lump of red fabric. He bends down to pick it up, realizing that it is his own cloak before his fingers touch the edge.
Slowly, Thor gathers the cloak into his arms. He begins to search every inch of it for signs of blood. Perhaps it isn't his, he thinks with hope. That hope fades when he feels his fingers brush across a dried patch of stain. He sighs in defeat and looks down at it.
There on his cloak is a darker space of red, dried and flaking free in the wind. He closes his eyes, thinking the worst.
Perhaps Loki's corpse has been dragged off by some animal hoping for an easy meal. The god shakes his head. He won't allow that, he tells himself. Thor folds the garment over his arm and sets off to fulfill his last duty to his brother.