Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Tony was just as surprised as everyone else when Thor showed up at the Avengers Towers three months after the Battle of New York, his previously (and possibly still) genocidal psychopath of a brother in tow. After all, Thor had said he was taking Loki back to their home realm to face ‘Asgardian justice’ - which sounded about as Viking-y as it could have possibly sounded - and none of the Avengers had expected them back at all, let alone so soon.

It was penance, Thor had said. After returning to Asgard, Odin had all but disowned Loki. Not willing to let him stay so near to the people of Asgard, not willing for the God of Lies to be a constant reminder to the people of the madness and evil within their own walls, Odin decreed that he would be remanded into S.H.I.E.L.D custody. Frigga had bowed to his will, sending her son on his way with nothing but the cloak on his back.

And, perhaps most surprising of all, Loki went completely willingly. No fighting, no magic, not even a single word in his defence. He had stayed silent and accepted his fate.

But now he was here, in the Avengers Tower, with an order to live under the supervision of the Avengers (and Thor, of course, who had more than happily agreed to follow his brother into Midgardian exile). He would accompany them on missions, providing aid with his magical and physical skills, and better himself by helping others.

Needless to say, he had been less than impressed, and the Avengers had been more than sceptical. Tony himself was one of the first to call out the bullshit punishment openly; the guy threw him out of a fucking window, and now he was living two doors down? Fuck that.

There had been screaming matches, and Tony had nearly deployed the suit more than once, but eventually, the team had agreed. Extremely unwillingly.

Loki had been greeted with complete and utter hostility. It was what he deserved, after all the pain and damage he had caused, and to be fair to the frosty prick, he’d taken in on the chin. He hadn’t complained, nor gone out of his way to defend himself from the verbal or physical jabs shot his way. He seemed to be taking the whole ‘penance’ thing to heart, and Tony would be lying if he said he wasn’t a little grateful for that.

It was nearly six months into the indefinite sentence, and no matter how hard the genius tried not to, he felt for Loki, he really did. Torn away from his home planet after a humiliating attempt at an invasion, banished to live with his annoying brother and his former enemies, forced out on missions that could very well cost him his life. Tony imagined it would suck for anyone, even evil wannabe-dictators.

But out of everything that confused him about this situation - and there were a lot of confusing elements in play - it was Loki’s complete lack of… well… evil. When they’d spoken up on that rooftop, Bruce’s words rang completely true - you could literally smell the crazy on him. Those electric blue eyes could’ve burned holes into Tony’s head. But since he’d returned from Asgard, he’d been normal. Or as normal as you can get for an ex-villain God. Either he was hiding his homicidal tendencies really well, or something else was going on.

And something was wrong. Like, really wrong. Most people would say that Tony was an unobservant person when it came to others - and most of the time, they would be right, as he was too wrapped up in his own world to notice others - but he couldn’t help but see that something was going on with Loki. His face was growing more sunken by the day, his skin paler than even his usual ethereal pale glow. He stayed locked in his room unless called out on a mission, and even on missions lately he’d been clumsy, silly little mistakes putting himself and the team at risk.

It was enough to give Tony stress migraines. But he couldn’t exactly ask Loki what was wrong; he predicted that conversation would end with a dagger in his side. So he just carried on.

Until something changed.

***

In Tony’s experience, there was always another bad guy whose ass needed whooping. And he’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy doing it every now and again.

This battle had been a relatively easy one, one where Tony relished the burn in his muscles and the adrenaline in his veins when it was over. JARVIS had an ice-cold glass of whiskey waiting for him in the living area when he strolled back in. The suit hadn’t taken any damage. No one had even been injured.

Or so he thought.

Most of the Avengers had filtered out of the room by now, making their way back to their own rooms in the Tower. Tony had taken up a seat on the sofa - or several seats, as he stretched out on it like a cat - and closed his eyes as quiet rushed over him. As much as he enjoyed the hustle and bustle of the place, it was nice to get a little silence every now and again.

That silence was pretty quickly broken by the loud creaking of the door. Tony rolled his eyes and sat up.

Wait… was that Loki?

It was, and Tony almost opened his mouth to speak, but something in his gut told him to keep quiet. Loki’s eyes were darting around the room, but clearly he hadn’t seen Tony from his position - the man supposed he must be blocked from view by the back of the sofa. His hand was clutching at his stomach, and every few steps his face would twitch in what Tony guessed was pain. Had he been injured? Tony didn’t remember seeing the God much during the fight, but then again, none of the Avengers really felt the need to crowd or protect Loki during battles; he was a literal God, after all.

But here he was, in obvious pain, now furtively searching through cupboards for- Was that a med kit? Fuck.

After half a year of knowing - or at least being around - Loki, Tony knew it was just like him to hide injuries. He was hyper-independent to the point of danger, and no doubt he would retreat and lick his wounds in private rather than admit weakness to anyone around him. God knows Tony was the same way. One thing that had intrigued him about Loki was just how similar they were. And Tony was intrigued by Loki, he couldn’t pretend any different.

“That you, Reindeer Games?”

As Tony’s voice rang out in the silence, he watched as the God jumped nearly a foot out of his skin. He hissed in pain for a split second before schooling his face into his usual blank expression.

“Stark. I wasn’t aware you were here, apologies. I was just taking my leave.”

“Don’t apologise,” Tony smiled. “You live here too.”

“Quite.” Loki smiled politely. It was incredibly forced.

“Is that a med kit you have there? ‘Cause if you took a hit, Brucey-boy will be more than happy to patch you up. That’s kinda his whole thing- well, when he’s not a huge smash-y green monster.”

“There’s no need,” Loki was quick to cut in, and was that fear in his eyes? “I am perfectly fine. I just… prefer to keep supplies in my own chambers, just in case.”

Tony quirked an eyebrow. “You sure about that one?”

“I am completely sure, Stark.”

“Call me Tony.”

“As you wish. I am completely sure, Anthony.”

“That’s not- you know what, never mind.” Tony sat himself at the bench in the kitchen, and took in Loki’s appearance up close. There were dark circles under his eyes, and his hands were shaking where they were folded against his stomach. “When you came in earlier, with your hand clutched to your stomach. That didn’t look perfectly fine. I mean, I’m no medical expert, but I have been called a genius by many people, so I kinda-”

“I am well.” Loki’s lip was twitching in annoyance now. “Now, if you’ll excuse me-”

“Loki. Do you really expect me to believe you’re fine? I’m not an idiot, no matter what you think of us Midgardians.”

Loki’s mouth curled into a sneer at that, his hands reflexively tightening into fists.

“Your concern is of no use to me. It does not matter whether you believe I am fine or not. I have lived here for a good while, and have been well-contented with the fact that you have stayed out of my business. See that you continue to do so.”

His tone was biting, but Tony found himself marvelling at the difference between this Loki and the one that had thrown him from a window six months ago. It was like watching a different person. Still stubborn, and angry, and likely to stab anyone that pissed him off - but he was just different. His eyes held so much less of that crazed fury. He looked… he looked spooked.

“I’m just saying. If it’s Bruce that’s freaking you out, I can help,” Tony offered. The more he watched, the more he felt an odd, almost protective, feeling stirring in his chest. Loki shifted his weight subtly from foot to foot.

“I do not want or need your help. Excuse me.”

Loki turned to leave, and as he did so, Tony caught full sight of the patch of blood that was just starting to seep through Loki’s dark green shirt. Fuck. Instinctively, he reached a hand out to catch Loki’s wrist as the God turned to leave, concern bubbling in his stomach.

Loki whipped around to face him, and Tony expected pure fury, that same blinding anger that had nearly killed him a year ago, but instead, Loki just looked like he was trying not to throw up.

“Get your hands off me.”

Immediately Tony lifted both hands in surrender. Loki continued to stare him down, his hands held stiffly at his sides.

“Do not touch me again, mortal, or I promise you I will make you rue the day you decided to test me.”

“Duly noted,” Tony soothed, folding his arms across his chest. Loki eyed him warily, almost as if he were expecting the man to try his luck. But Tony knew better than that. Loki nodded once, his face once again morphing into that calm and detached mask he wore so often. “But if you’re going to patch yourself up, at least get some decent supplies - we only use the med kit in here for minor injuries. There should be more heavy-duty stuff in the supply cupboard across from my room. Help yourself.”

That was a risky move, and Tony knew it. Loki was clearly holding himself on a tenuous thread, but for some bizarre and possibly self-destructive reason, Tony felt safe. Like Loki wouldn’t hurt him. Fuck knows where that notion came from.

“Goodbye, Stark.”

With that, Loki fled.

“Jesus Christ.” Tony huffed a breath after Loki wandered off down the corridor and rubbed at his temples. “J? Set a hot bath running, will you? I feel like my head’s about to explode.”

“Of course, Sir. May I also suggest that next time Sir is faced with a genocidal God, he does not attempt to rile him up with witty banter?”

“You could suggest that, J, but you know I’m not going to listen.”

“Very well, Sir.”

Tony’s mind was racing a thousand miles a minute. What on earth was Loki hiding? How could he have changed so much from New York? And why did looking at him make Tony feel a near-primal urge to protect him?

Genocidal God, indeed. He had to admit, that descriptor was seeming less and less accurate with each day Loki spent in the Tower. Ego-maniac? Definitely. Deceptive? Absolutely. A loner? Completely. But a villain?

Tony blew out a puff of air. What the fuck was he getting himself into?

Chapter Text

The first time it happened, Tony let it go completely over his head.

It had been a few days since their argument, and life had mostly returned to normal for him. He worked on new designs in his workshop. He bantered with the other Avengers. He even took down a rogue sorcerer. All in a few day’s work for a superhero.

He couldn’t sleep, but that wasn’t particularly strange for him. He’d never slept well since being a kid, and after the mountain of trauma he’d taken on in his life, it wasn’t getting any easier. He was content to grab an espresso and just keep working most nights anyway; so that was what he was doing, sleep shirt and pants loose on his body, his hair sticking up at every angle.

He made his way to the kitchen that adjoined the living area, flipping on the coffee machine and rubbing at his tired eyes.

And there was Loki, his legs curled beneath him, a book in his hand and a tight expression on his face.

Tony had learned from the last time. Instead of calling out to him, he simply turned his back and cleared his throat, subtly enough that Loki would hear but would also probably think he hadn’t been seen yet. If there was one thing that Tony knew about Loki, it was that he hated being caught off guard, so give him time to put that guard up, and he was much more amenable.

“Stark,” Loki acknowledged, and Tony turned to face him, a tired but placating smile on his face.

“Loki.”

The silence was slightly uncomfortable, and Loki shifted in his seat, almost going to stand before Tony held up a hand.

“Hey, no need to leave. I’m heading back to the lab anyway, I’m halfway through a project and I’m not gonna let something as stupid as sleep get in the way,” He chuckled, and Loki’s mouth stretched into a thin and insincere smile. He did not say a word.

“Well, uh… happy reading!” Tony cringed as he said it, but Loki just nodded and turned back to his book.

If Tony saw his hands shaking, he chose not to mention it.

The next time it happened, the genius was starting to get a little worried, and more than a little curious. It was another sleepless night, and Tony found himself wandering towards to coffee machine again, only to find Loki with a book in his hands on the sofa again. Tony’s eyebrow quirked up. He didn’t know a lot about Asgardians, but he was pretty sure they still needed sleep, God or not. It was nearing four in the morning, but here they both were.

This time, it was Loki who acknowledged him first.

“Stark.”

“Loki. Burning the midnight oil again?”

Loki’s brow furrowed. “I’m afraid I don’t quite know what you mean.”

“It’s an expression, Reindeer Games. Just means you’re working into the night.” The machine beeped loudly to announce its completion, and Tony cradled the Americano in his hands, letting the liquid warm him from outside and in. “Can I-”

He gestured lamely at the sofa, and Loki’s eyes narrowed, scrutinising him before tilting his head in permission.

“You hardly have to ask me, Stark. As you said, we both live here.”

“Fair point.” Tony settled on the other end of the sofa and watched as Loki’s entire body stiffened up. The God turned back to face his book, but his eyes kept darting towards the man at his side. “What are you reading?”

Loki looked shocked at the question. “It’s… it’s what you Midgardians would call a spell book, I suppose.”

“So, is magic something you have to study? I always thought it was something you just… you know, popped out knowing. But I guess it makes more sense that it’s a craft you have to study- like science.” Tony took a long sip of his drink and tried valiantly to ignore the gaze he knew was fixed on him.

There was a moment of quiet before Loki spoke. “It can be innate, in some - my mother and I were both born with Seiðr, so magic comes to us more naturally than most. However, for more difficult or advanced magic, we are required to study, yes. Much like you Midgardians study your science, if you enjoy that comparison.”

Loki was still yet to look up from his book, but he seemed to be relaxing slightly, muscle by muscle. Tony would take that as a win.

“What kind of magic are you studying right now?” Tony was grasping at straws to prolong the conversation, and he was on thin ice, he knew it. But Loki was finally talking, and the genius found it incredibly hard to find the will to leave him alone as he had in this position a few days ago.

“Currently, I am trying to master a spell that will let me flay enemies alive,” he commented nonchalantly, fixing Tony with a stare that would make any sane person run for the hills. “I haven’t yet found a subject to practice on, but…”

Tony knew exactly what he was doing. He was pushing his limits, seeing how far he could intimidate the mortal until he ran screaming in fear. But Tony knew exactly what it was like to feel like you had to push people away to keep them safe, and he wasn’t giving in that easily.

So instead, he let a smile split his face, and he barked out a laugh. “Jesus, Lokes, remind me never to get in your way in a fight. Just promise if you find someone to practice on, you do it far away from the Tower, okay? I’ve got a strong stomach, but an empty sleeve of human skin might push me over the edge.”

It was Loki’s turn to quirk up an eyebrow in surprise, and he closed the book on his lap, finally turning his head to face the human. Tony stared right back.

“You are… a fascinating mortal, Anthony Stark.”

Tony tried not to glow at the praise, he really did. “What, ‘cause you vaguely threatening to skin me didn’t make me run screaming like a little girl?”

“That, amongst other things.” Loki’s hands curled in his lap, and Tony couldn’t help but notice the slight tremor that shook them. He took another sip of coffee. “You just… I don’t understand why you continue to put yourself in situations with me. Most of the Avengers - including yourself, until recently - seemed perfectly content to leave me to my own devices, and I cannot lay any blame on them, after what I did to your city. What I wanted to do to your entire planet.”

Loki looked away again, and Tony could swear there was the beginning of tears gathering in his eyes.
“I don’t ‘put myself’ in anything, Loki. We both live here. Besides, nothing you’ve done since coming back has given me any indication that you’d even want to do that whole invasion shit again. I kept my distance for a while, but I don’t see any reason why we couldn’t get along. You’re a part of the team, now, after all.”

“I threw you out of a window. I enslaved your friends, and tried to enslave you. I killed so many of your people.” Loki’s voice was near a whisper, and he refused to look up. Tony’s heart pounded in his chest. Was he being stupid, or was that guilt in Loki’s face? “You have every reason to wish me dead.”

“But I don’t.”

Neither spoke for a while after that. Loki picked his book up and pretended to read. Tony finished his coffee and pretended not to hear the intermittent sniffles coming from the God next to him. Eventually, Tony stood.

“Duty calls. I’ll be in the workshop, so holler if you need anything, ‘kay?”

Loki nodded.

“There’s chamomile tea on the top shelf of the cupboard next to the microwave. Helps me sleep sometimes, so help yourself. And Loki?” Loki turned to face Tony, and his eyes were red. “I’m not afraid of you. You may not want one, but you’ve got a friend. I’m annoyingly persistent, so prepare yourself.”

With that, he placed his mug in the sink and made his way down to the workshop.

They carried on their intricate and confusing dance for weeks. Every few days, Tony would wander into the living area in the small hours of the morning, and Loki would be there; clutching a book, or holding a mug of chamomile tea, or once, watching a nature documentary on the ecosystems of the Arctic Penninsula. They would sit together and discuss a thousand things: Loki’s seiðr, Tony’s latest projects, their respective worlds, stories of their youth, stories of battles they’d fought. It was a tenuous thing, the friendship they were building, but Tony couldn’t help his heart as it began to wrap itself around each glimpse he got into Loki’s life. He watched as Loki slowly started to become more comfortable with him too; he spoke less formally, laughed more easily.

More often than not, Tony would fall asleep after they’d done their talking for the night, slipping from comfortable silence to peaceful dreams. He would always wake the next morning still on the sofa, a blanket carefully laid over his body. It made him smile to think of Loki, former supervillain and king of nonchalance and not getting attached, staying to drape a blanket over him each night. And no, that image didn’t tug painfully on his heartstrings at all, thank you very much.

It had been a few weeks since his first proper late-night conversation with the God when Tony was woken none-too-gently by JARVIS.

“Sir.”

“What the fuck, J? Go away.”

“Sir, I believe you should wake-”

“JARVIS, it’s three in the fucking morning.”

“I am aware, Sir. However, Mr. Laufeyson is in the living area and displaying considerable signs of distress.”

Shit. He pulled the covers off as hastily as he could, splashing his face with cold water and making his way to the living area. There had been plenty of nights when he had walked in to find Loki staring out to space, his hands shaking and his eyes red. They never talked about it, and that was fine with Tony; he’d just waffle on until the shaking stopped and Loki was smiling inquisitively, asking questions and returning his banter.

But tonight was different.

He tried to make his approach seem casual; he knew it could cause a full-scale freakout if Loki knew he was being surveilled by the household AI. He turned on the coffee machine, as he usually did, and turned to look for the God.

Loki was in rough shape. He had a blanket wrapped around his shoulders, and his knees were tucked up to his chest, arms wrapped around them tightly. He was staring out the window, and there were visible tear tracks on his face. His chest rose and fell far too quickly, and he just looked so small. Fragile.

This time, Loki made no move to acknowledge him. It was almost as if he hadn’t noticed Tony come in at all, despite the amount of noise he had gone out of his way to make. Tony’s heart pounded in his chest. This was not good.

“Hey there, Loki. Fancy seeing you here,” he joked, trying to keep his tone calm. Loki’s head jerked up sharply, and he wiped viciously at his tears, his face flushing. “You good?”

“I am fine, thank you, Anthony.” Nearly two months and Loki still refused to call him Tony. But he’d been promoted from ‘Stark’ to ‘Anthony’, so he supposed he had to celebrate the victories when they came. “You simply caught me off guard.”

“Fair enough.” Tony grabbed his mug, and settled himself on the sofa, closer to the God than he usually sat, and was surprised and a little heartbroken to see Loki almost straining against leaning towards him. “You wanna tell me what’s going on with you?”

Loki hesitated, worrying at his lip with his teeth.

“You can talk to me, you know. About anything.” Loki nodded. “So talk to me. I know our night-time habits align pretty well, but I don’t imagine you’re much of a napper, so I’m guessing you’re not sleeping well.”

The God nodded, turning his face away from Tony.

“I simply… find myself unable to settle. I am sure it’s a side effect of my sudden lifestyle change. I will be fine, I assure you.”

“Why don’t I believe you?” Tony’s voice was still soft. He felt almost like he was talking to a small child, or a scared animal - one wrong move, and he would flee. “C’mon, Lokes.”

“May I… ask you something, Anthony?”

“Go ahead.”

Loki was picking at his fingers anxiously, and Tony had to fight the urge to take his hands in his own and hold them steady.

“When I was exiled- when I was brought under the Avengers initiative, Director Fury gave me a file on each Avenger. I read through yours, and I… is it true? That you were held captive and- and-”

“Tortured?” Tony asked. Loki swallowed thickly and nodded. “Yeah, it’s true. For four months in Afghanistan. A terrorist organisation called the Ten Rings. It was pretty shitty, I wouldn’t recommend. Why do you ask?”

Loki’s breath stuttered in and out, and for a second, Tony had a horrible feeling he might have a panic attack. But Loki simply clenched his fists and kept attempting to calm himself, to seemingly no avail.

“They wanted you to make them weaponry.”

“They did. I made my first suit instead. Worked out great for me, not so well for them.”

“What do you think would have happened if you- you had granted them their wishes? Given them the weapon they asked for?”

Tony felt a pit open in his stomach. Discussing Afghanistan was difficult at the best of times, but this time, his concern wasn’t for himself. Why did Loki want to discuss torture?

“I try not to think about it. But people do terrible things when they’re in that kind of pain, Loki. I don’t think anyone would have blamed me if I’d done what they asked.”

Loki’s face contorted painfully, before his next words. They were barely more than a whisper.

“How did you keep living? After?”

Tony felt his heart in his throat. Revelation after revelation was dawning in his mind, and he felt anger rise in his chest as he put the pieces together. How had he not noticed? The jumpiness, the lack of sleep, the isolation, the refusal to interact with the Avengers? The shaking hands, the tear tracks, the way his personality had completely changed since his employment?

“I did what I had to do. I helped people. I invented. I drank- fucking hell, I drank a lot. And then I started letting people in again. Talking.” He sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Sometimes I still wake up wondering how the fuck I’m supposed to keep going. But then… you just do it. You just keep living.”

That seemed to calm something in Loki, and his hands stopped their anxious flurry of movement. He turned to face Tony, and his eyes shone with tears. His green eyes.

Oh god.

“Thank you, Anthony.”

“Nothing to thank me for, bud. Just- you can tell me anything. You know that, right?”

“I do.”

Tony turned his attention back to his now stone-cold coffee when he felt a gentle pressure against his shoulder. Loki had rested his head there and closed his eyes.

Something in Tony clicked. Loki’s breath ghosted across his neck, and he had the odd feeling that he would burn down an entire planet to keep him safe.

But for now, if the dark shadows on his face were any location, Loki had a significant amount of sleep to catch up on. So Tony picked up the book Loki had left and resigned himself to another sleepless night.

Chapter Text

“Ah, Point Break! Just the Asgardian I wanted to see.”

Tony had woken up disoriented in the living area, a blanket thrown over him and Loki’s book still in his grasp. There was a note, scrawled in Loki’s looping calligraphy, stuck as a bookmark.

Thank you for last night, it read. I leave this in your care as a token of my gratitude. Temporarily, of course. Yours, Loki.

Tony still had the note tucked safely in his pocket. He was trying very hard not to think about why.

“Anthony Stark! How do you fare, Man of Iron?”

“I’m doing good, but, uh… could I ask you something about your brother?”
Thor’s face dropped. “What has he done this time? I apologise sincerely, I will speak to him and-”

“No, no, Thor, he didn’t do anything,” Tony clarified, and watched as the God of Thunder huffed out a sigh of relief.

“That is good to hear,” Thor said. “You may ask anything, Tony.”

“Do you- did you notice anything different about Loki during the battle of New York? I mean, you can’t deny that the Loki living here now is completely different from the maniac that attacked us. It’s like… almost like he wasn’t himself.”

“I have often wondered this myself. The Loki of our childhood… he was a menace, make no mistake, but as was I. His seiðr tricks were frequent, and more than a little annoying, but he never caused deliberate harm - well, beyond a non-fatal wound at least,” Thor chuckled. “Even in our adolescent years, when he began to grow away from me, the harm he caused was always to prove himself worthy, not to actually rule. He told me once in his own words that the idea of a throne never interested him. He simply wanted to be seen as an equal.”

Tony took a second to digest the information, as it slotted into place. “I read his file, but what happened after he tried to destroy Jotunheim?”

Thor looked down at his hands. “It is… hard, for me to speak of.”

“It’s alright. Take your time, big guy.”

“Our father woke up from the Odinsleep and saved me from falling into the Void. Loki spoke with him, and tried to convince him of the merit of his plan, but Odin would hear none of it. My brother was holding onto me. He- he chose to let go. He fell into the Void, and we all believed him dead. The next time I laid eyes on him was a year later, when I took him from your aircraft over Germany.”

“Wait, wait, you’re telling me- Loki went missing for a year after trying to kill himself?”

“Aye. I know not where he spent that year, only that he came back and was unlike I have ever known my brother to be.”

“Thor, we spoke last night and he- fuck. He was asking how I dealt with torture. He wanted to know what would’ve happened if I gave into my captors’ demands.”

In a split second, Thor’s face held a fury that reminded Tony of exactly why ancient humans had worshipped him as an all-powerful God. But then he deflated, and was left with nothing but anguish.

“There are forces in the Nine Realms that possess power that neither of us can hope to understand. If that power were inflicted upon my brother, I do not doubt that he would attempt to take over Midgard. If he were promised freedom? I can imagine he would be driven to anything.”

“Don’t-” Tony hesitated, and ran a hand through his hair. “Don’t tell Loki that I told you about our conversation. Please. I can help him, but if we scare him off-”

“Fear not, Tony Stark, I will not say a word. I know my brother. We must treat this situation with delicacy, but I am afraid that is not my strength.”

“I’ll do everything in my power to protect him, Thor. I swear.”

Thor nodded solemnly. “Then Loki is in good hands.”

Tony had planned on relaxing and letting himself breathe after that gut-wrenching conversation, but such was the life of a superhero (Tony still scoffed at that title) that he was suited up and flying around Times Square only a few hours later, dodging blasts of shimmering purple magick.

Their alien enemy was nameless, and for all Tony cared, he could stay that way; it was barely ten minutes since the fighting had begun and the mage was already visibly flagging.

Loki was fighting by his side, and as usual, he was a sight to behold. Long hair whipping behind him, dodging attacks with ease and weaving his emerald seiðr through the air. Tony nearly flew into the side of a building just watching him distractedly. This was becoming a real problem.

“Hey, Cap? Think you could get up that building and get onto his back? He looks like a good shove could take him to the floor, then we can get this joker cuffed and off to S.H.I.E.L.D.,” Tony mused into his coms, and watched as Steve held a hand to his ear and nodded.

“Affirmative.”

“Atta-boy.”

Only three of them had been called out for this mission; evidently, Fury didn’t see the mage as much of a threat, so he’d requested Steve, Tony, and Loki, deeming that the others could use a little rest and relaxation. Tony wasn’t complaining.

“How you holding up, Loki?” He looked down and caught Loki’s gaze. The God was smiling up at him, a mischievous glint in his eye.

“I am rather enjoying myself, Anthony!”

“Good to hear, bud! We’ve got him, we’ll be done by dinner. I’m thinking Chinese. Thoughts?”

Loki’s laugh crackled across his coms, and Tony felt like he was floating. Which he was, but that was a whole different matter. “I am amenable.”

The laughter was abruptly cut short when a blast of purple magick nearly shot straight through Loki’s head. He ducked just in time. Tony felt his heart leap into his throat.

“Who are you to laugh at me?” The mage screeched, his fangs bared in Loki’s direction. “You are nothing more than a bitch on a leash to these Avengers! I have heard rumours, God of Lies, and they are proven as you stand here, yet again whoring yourself out for the highest bidder!”

Tony watched as Loki’s face fell, hands frozen in front of him, spell dying on his lips. All colour drained from his in an instant, and Tony could swear he saw Loki’s hands start to shake.

But before he could question what the mage was talking about, three things happened in succession; Steve hurtled from the roof onto the mage’s back, the pair of them started spiralling down to Earth, and the mage released a magical blade, aiming directly for Loki’s head.

Tony acted out autopilot, engaging the thrusters at full capacity to make it to where Loki stood stock still, eyes wide with fear.

“Loki, move!” He grabbed the God’s upper arm, barely yanking him out of the way as the dagger sliced through the air, nicking Loki’s cheek as it passed. The pair of them tumbled to the side, and Tony wasted no time in removing his mask. “Fuck, are you okay?”

Loki didn’t respond. He just turned to look at Tony, blood dripping sluggishly down his porcelain cheek, and Tony felt sick. He looked terrified.

“Stark! I got him!”

“Loki, we gotta-”

The genius watched as Loki shook himself off, his face falling back into an expressionless mask as he ran towards Steve. He followed behind. There would be time to discuss later. For now, they had an insane alien magician to deal with.

The mage was still spitting fury and blood when they reached him, Steve on top of him and pinning him to the concrete. Without so much as a word, Loki conjured thick, green chains and wrapped them tightly around the struggling extraterrestrial. Steve huffed a sigh of relief and rolled to the side, his chest heaving.

Tony's mind was still reeling. What had the mage been talking about? A bitch on a leash, what the fuck was that supposed to mean? And why had it spooked Loki so badly? That last dagger had been clumsily thrown, and at such a distance that Tony would’ve expected Loki to simply turn it to dust as it came closer. What was going on with him?

“I suppose some things never change,” the mage spat, blood coating his teeth and lips as his face split into a wicked grin. “Thanos sends his warmest regards. His children are missing their favourite toy.”

Steve turned to Tony, a look of utter confusion on his face. One that he knew must match his own expression.

“Loki, what-”

Tony turned to Loki only to be greeted with a display of fear so complete that he felt his own heart squeeze in his chest. If Loki had been paler than usual before, he was paper-white now, and blood-shot eyes stood out against ivory skin. Tears welled in his eyes. His brows were furrowed in what looked like confusion and terror. His bottom lip trembled.

“No. No, no it’s- you- no, no-”

“Loki? What’s wrong?” Steve’s tone was sharp and concerned. Though the other Avengers hadn’t taken to Loki like Tony had, he was still a teammate.

Loki barked out a sob. “No! You can’t-”

“Loki, bud, take a minute, it’s alright,” Tony tried to soothe, reaching a hand out before Loki jerked away, eyes wild.

“Do not touch me! I am not- not your pet, I-”

Loki threw one last desperate look at the mage in chains, at Steve now standing and looking wary, and finally, at Tony- before a swirl of forest-green smoke swelled and covered all four of them. By the time it had dissipated, Loki had vanished.

Fuck.

Chapter Text

It had taken around a minute and a half for JARVIS to inform Tony that Loki was in the living area of the Avengers Tower. Tony had ignored Steve’s questions, telling him to wait for S.H.I.E.L.D. to collect the mage, before jetting towards the Tower in the distance.

He mulled the alien’s words over in his head as he flew. He had no clue who Thanos or his children were, but the rest clicked into place as he considered it against Loki’s veiled questions, and Thor’s explanation of Loki’s year missing. A bitch on a leash. His children are missing their favourite toy. A quiet question, asked in utter fear and despair: What do you think would have happened if you had granted them their wishes?

It didn’t take a genius to realise what had happened. Loki had fallen into the Void, and been found by Thanos and his children, whoever the fuck they were. He’d been tortured, god knows how, until he’d attempted to take over Midgard under their command. Tony felt tears of frustration and guilt fill his eyes. The Avengers had nearly killed him when they’d fought him in New York. Granted, they couldn’t have done anything else; they had a planet to protect. But he couldn’t help but wonder as images flashed in his mind of Loki being thrown around by the Hulk: had they been defeating him, or finishing the dirt work of some unknown cosmic dictator?

He had to let the tears run - he couldn’t very well stop to wipe them away. He had to find his Loki.

“Sir. Loki remains in the living area, and he has just asked me to lock down the room to make it impenetrable to all… but you. He was very determined that you should still be able to reach him, should you desire.”

“Shit, okay- how is he?” Silence. “JARVIS!”

“Mr. Laufeyson is displaying all the symptoms of a severe panic attack.”

There it was again: the stirring in Tony’s chest, the need to comfort, to protect. He was far too worried about Loki to deny what that feeling was anymore. It was love. He’d known it since the first time he’d woken alone in the living area, with that blanket tucked so carefully around him. He’d known it every day since, and he’d felt it pulse in his veins as Loki had disappeared in a cloud of seiðr. It was hard not to fall for someone like Loki: the God had opened himself up to Tony, shown him a world made of magic, and the billionaire was in no shape to resist.

But now was not the time for world-shattering emotional realisations. The only thing that mattered was Loki.

True to his word, JARVIS had locked down the living area; Tony could see the tint on the windows from the balcony. The second he touched down, the suit opened and he raced into the room, allowing the AI to pack it away neatly. The doors slid open with a hiss, and closed behind him as soon as he entered.

He hadn’t known what to expect when he walked in. It was so much worse than he anticipated.

Loki was still in his armour, curled up on the floor with his back against the bottom of the sofa. His hair was matted and his hands had a vice-like grip on the jet-black strands, and he tugged almost mindlessly. His face was ashen and tears trailed their way over his cheeks and down his chin. The wound on his cheek was still bleeding, and the blood was smeared over his face, his lips, his hands. He was gasping loudly for air.

“Oh, Loki,” Tony whispered, his voice thick with emotion. Loki’s head whipped up, searching the room in desperation before unguarded eyes fell on the man in front of him. He let out a strangled cry, and Tony was kneeling on the floor in front of him in a second. “Listen to me, I’m gonna need you to take a couple of deep breaths, alright?”

Loki shook his head vigorously, hands tightening in his hair. Reflexively, Tony reached out a hand to place it on Loki’s shoulder, and once again the God flinched away.

“Do not touch me!”

“I won’t, I promise, I won’t touch you,” Tony soothed. Loki continued to gasp wildly, and Tony took a moment to settle, crossing his legs and trying to project as much calmness as he could. “Loki, I need you to try and breathe. You’re in the Avengers Tower, and it’s just me and you here. You’re safe, alright? Couldn’t be safer if you tried.”

“You don’t- I- I cannot-”

“I know it feels like you can’t, but you can breathe, I promise you.” Tony reached up and brought the blanket down from the back of the sofa. “I’m not gonna touch you, okay? But you’re shivering, and this will help.”

Keeping his hands as visible as possible, Tony draped the blanket over Loki and watched as his shaking hands pulled it tight over his shoulders. His tears were still steadily flowing, as was the blood from his cheek, but he seemed to calm slightly with the fabric a reassuring weight over him.

“Anthony-” His name was barely a gasp on Loki’s lips, but it tugged at Tony’s heart nonetheless.

“I’m here.” He shuffled closer, holding out his hands. “I’m right here.”

“He’s- he is coming, Anthony, we must- we have- have to…” His chest stuttered and his breath wheezed in and out of his lungs in a way that sounded excruciating. “Norns, we have to-”

“We don’t have to do anything, bud,” Tony cut in, his voice low and gentle. “No one is coming. You’re safe.”

“No, no, no!” Loki’s voice was shredded, and his legs kicked out beneath him as he unsuccessfully tried to draw in another breath. “You are not listening, I have- it is not-”

“Loki, stop. Look at me.” Loki did so, primal sounds of fear coming from deep in his chest. He was barely fighting off full-body sobs. “Can I touch you?”

A single nod, and Tony knew exactly what he had to do. He took Loki’s hand in his own, as gently as he could manage, and held it to his chest. Tony felt Loki flinch when their skin made contact, but he carried on anyway, fingers stroking softly along the back of the God’s hand.

“Just breathe with me. You feel my chest rise, you breathe in - you feel it fall, you breathe out.” Tony started breathing, exaggerating his chest movements and smiling as Loki tried valiantly to follow along. “There you go. You’re doing good, bud, just keep going like that. We’ll have you feeling better in no time, you have my word as a superhero.”

They sat in silence for a while, Tony watching like a hawk for any signs that Loki was about to spiral into a panic again. But, after an unknowable amount of time - it felt like both 10 hours and five minutes in Tony’s stress-addled brain - Loki was breathing normally again, other than the occasional hitch as he removed his hand from Tony’s warm grasp and rubbed at the wet streaks on his face.

“Anthony.”

“Right here, Lokes.”

“I am… truly sorry, for my outburst. I did not mean to distress you.” His cheeks flushed, and he looked so ashamed. Tony did not like the sharp pain in his chest that accompanied that expression.

“Don’t apologise, okay? It’s fine. If anyone knows that a panic attack can’t be helped, it’s me. You can ask JARVIS, he’s seen it all,” Tony joked, jerking his head up to gesture at the ever-present AI. Loki’s mouth quirked into a wobbly smile and fell just as quickly.

Loki scrubbed a none-too-gentle hand over his face, eyes bloodshot and face still bloodied. His fingers caught on the edge of his cut, and he winced.

“I appear to be bleeding on your floors.”

“Doesn’t bother me. Keeps Dum-E amused when he has something to clean up. Speaking of,” Tony gestured vaguely at Loki’s face. “Can I clean you up? That’s gonna leave a mark, you’re gonna want to get some disinfectant or something on it. I don’t know if Asgardians can get human germs, but better safe than sorry, right?” He stood slowly, careful not to make any sudden movements, and grabbed the med kit. He shot a grateful look at the ceiling, knowing that it was JARVIS who had instructed one of the bots to make sure it was ready for him before he returned from the mission.

“I am capable of-”

“Doing it yourself, I know,” Tony chuckled, settling back on the floor in front of Loki, disinfectant wipes already in hand. “I know you can. But… let me?”

He waited for Loki’s hesitant nod; he really didn’t like the idea of Loki cleaning himself up, retreating into his shell and pretending like nothing was wrong, but if that was what he wanted, Tony wouldn’t push him too hard. But when the nod came, he let out a subtle exhale of relief. The packet opened with a strong chemical smell, and Tony hovered with his hand hovering just over Loki’s cheek.

“This is gonna sting, ‘kay?”

“...Okay.”

Loki grit his teeth as the wipe touched his face, and Tony couldn’t help but apologise.

“I’m sorry, bud, I’ll make it as quick as I can.” He continued his quiet ministrations, occasional muscle twitches the only sign that Loki was in pain. “Loki, I know now is probably not the time, but… I need you to know you can tell me anything. You don’t have to explain yourself, and if you want, we can forget this ever happened. But you were pretty spooked back there, and if there’s one thing I know, it’s that getting shit off your chest can help sometimes.”

Tony placed the wipe back in its packet and tossed it in the waste basket next to the kitchen counter. Loki was fiddling with his hands, and Tony wanted nothing more than to pull the anxious God into his arms and make him forget every terrible thing he was feeling. But Loki didn’t need that right now - and would probably be pretty weirded out by it, in all honesty. So Tony placed his hands and waited patiently.

“I am…” Loki started, swallowing nervously. “I am afraid I will frighten you away.”

Tony shook his head fiercely. “Never.”

Loki cocked his head with a puzzled expression decorating his face, before shrugging a single shoulder. “Very well. Where should I start?”

“Thor told me about your… your attempt on the Rainbow Bridge,” Tony admitted sheepishly, and Loki’s upper lip curled in disdain. “Hey, don’t be angry with him. I asked him, I was worried about you.”

Now that caused a gorgeous scarlet blush to spread across Loki’s shocked face, and-

Fucking hell, Stark. Get it together.

“Anyway, he told me you fell into the Void, and that the next time he saw you was a year later in our helicarrier. And you were… different.”

“I will always regret that meeting. Our reunion should have been a happy occasion. I’m afraid I ruined that for the both of us.” Loki sucked in a trembling breath. “But you are correct. My year away was spent on an unknown planet, deep in the Void - that is where I was unwillingly introduced to- to Thanos, and his children.”

Loki nearly choked around the name.

“He welcomed me with open arms. He told me that he had been searching for a being with a mind as bright as mine, with the will and capability to lead. He asked me to join his conquest. I refused.”

Loki sniffled, and angrily wiped at tears that had started gathering again. Tony didn’t reach out to stop him; he had a sinking feeling that any touch might just throw the God headfirst into another panic attack, so he let a comforting smile spread across his face and tried not to think about the urge to protect.

“What did he do, Loki?”

“He was- he didn’t have much of a hand in the physical pain. That was left to his children. For months, he let them play with me like a toy. I was stripped, burned, crushed, whipped, bled, I- I cannot describe the pain. What I suppose was a few months in, they had to restrain me magically in the direct centre of the cage - every time I was left unsupervised, I did my very best to break my skull against its bars.”

The image made Tony nauseous. And angry. Really fucking angry. A terrified Loki, pleading for death, subjected to every form of torture imaginable - he felt his breathing quicken at just the thought of it. But Loki was looking at him, trying to gauge his reaction, so he simply nodded for him to continue.

“That was just the torture they could inflict with weapons. They are mages, much like the one we fought today - only more skilled than he could ever comprehend. I saw- I saw image after image, my mother torn apart, Thor… Thor lying gutted before me,” Loki’s voice was trembling now, but the words were spilling out like poison, and Tony didn’t think the God could stop himself if he tried. “I watched as my deepest fears played out in front of me. I tried- I- tried to gouge my eyes out, but they stopped me before I could, held me down, held me, wouldn’t let me go-”

Tony held a hand out, palm up, and Loki worried at his lip.

“Take it, Loki. You’re doing good.” Loki nodded once, and hesitantly slipped a shaking hand into Tony’s warm grasp. “You can stop if you need, ‘kay?”

“Anthony, I… I do not know if I can.”

“Then keep going,” Tony encouraged with a squeeze of his hand. “Keep going, and I’ll stay right here with you. I’m not going anywhere.” He worried that he might be going a little overboard with the reassurances, but considering the way Loki relaxed a little as he spoke, he figured it was what he needed.

“After it all, I was broken. They had shattered me into a thousand pieces, and I did not believe myself capable of being anything other than an obedient pet. I would have done anything they asked - anything that meant the pain would stop.”

Tony remembered that feeling far too well. Somewhere between the third and fourth day of waterboarding in the mountains of Afghanistan, he had started begging in his mind; mostly to keep himself from doing it aloud. He had imagined turning to the leader, crawling on his knees and agreeing to his every demand. Anything to make the torture end.

“Once Thanos decided I had been suitably broken, he gave me a mission. Used the influence of the mind stone to bend me to his will- not unlike I did to Agent Barton and your other friends.”

The realisation hit Tony like a wall of brick. He’d danced around the idea in his mind, that Loki wasn’t completely Loki when he’d attacked New York with the Chitauri. But now it all made sense - Thor being unable to recognise his brother’s actions, the strange manner in which he’d conducted himself (acting as if he wanted to get caught?), and the- fuck, the glowing blue eyes that Tony knew to be green. The genius had been remarkably slow on the uptake, and he didn’t know whether to scream or cry.

“When I arrived on Earth, I tried- tried to include loopholes within the plan, loopholes that I hoped someone would pick at and let the whole plot unravel. I enslaved Agent Barton because I knew he was an Avenger - that would encourage your band of superheroes to rise against me. I allowed Dr. Selvig to build a failsafe himself into the portal so that it might be closed. I wandered around Stuttgart completely unhidden in the hopes that Thor would find me, that he would stop me. But I still killed.”

Loki’s voice was nothing more than a whisper, and his grip on Tony’s hand tightened almost painfully.

“Loki, you didn’t-”

“No, Anthony, listen to me. I am a murderer. I took so many lives, killed so many of your people, I- Anthony, I tried to turn your city to rubble!”

“You were being controlled, Loki, you can’t blame yourself for-”

“I can, and I must! Thanos did not unleash the full power of the mind stone on me, because he did not have to. I was already in his grasp, already willing to carry out his wicked plan. They did not make me a monster, Anthony, I was monstrous far before they got their hands on me. But the failsafe worked! The Avengers foiled my plan, and I thought that Banner was going to kill me and I was so happy, because it would finally be over, I would finally be free, but I will never be free! I must live with the pain I’ve caused, and I will never be anything other than the demon they made of me!”

Loki was trembling from head to toe, and he was working himself back up to sobs, his voice a guttural growl in his throat. He looked like he might jump up and flee at any minute, a frightened animal, wracked by guilt and fear and lingering memories of pain. So Tony did the only thing he could think of to do.

He threw caution to the wind, gathered Loki in his arms, and held him tight against his chest.

For a split second, Loki stiffened in his arms, and Tony thought he had made a horrible mistake. But then Loki let out a wail of despair that pierced a hole straight through his heart, and he knew he’d made the right decision. The God buried his face against Tony’s shoulder and sobbed, his hands tightening in Tony’s shirt, gasping for breath.

“I’ve got you, sweetheart, I’ve got you,” he mumbled, lips pressed against Loki’s temple. “You’re right here with me and I’m not gonna walk away. I’m staying right here. I want to stay right here.”

“You- you can’t- I will hurt you, Anthony, I am tired of- of hurting people but I can’t- can’t stop, I’m-”

“Stop, right now. You will not hurt me.” Tony’s voice was firm, but not unkind. “Breathe. You’re safe, okay? You’re safe, and so am I. You’re not gonna hurt me. You are not a monster.”

Tony felt as Loki shook his head, but ignored it as he smoothed a firm hand up and down the God’s back, his other hand carding through Loki’s long hair. Loki was still crying, still clutching at him like he would disappear if he let go, but Tony didn’t care. He would endure any amount of discomfort if it made his Loki feel better.

His Loki. It even sounded right in his mind.

“I’ve got you, Loki. None of what they did to was your fault.” The words seemed to calm something in Loki, and even though he cried harder, Tony could feel the rapid rise and fall of his chest slow ever so slightly. “That’s right, honey, you’re doing so good. It wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t your fault.”

It took a surprisingly short amount of time for Loki to calm himself. When the tears finally stopped, Loki sat back - making sure to stay close enough that he would still be enveloped in the mortal’s arms.

“There he is. How’re you feeling, sweetheart?”

Loki blushed and looked down, refusing to meet Tony’s eyes.

“Better. I am sorry to have-”

“Hey. None of that. You have nothing to apologise for, alright? You did well. That can’t have been easy to talk about.”

“You are… you are the first person I have spoken to about what happened,” Loki admitted, and Tony felt warmth glowing in his chest. He was truly honoured. Loki held a hand up to his mouth and yawned.

“That took a lot out of you, huh?” Tony chuckled fondly, his hand still absent-mindedly running his hand across Loki’s back. “I can imagine. I can offer you my room if you want. It’s the closest, and I have the really good blackout curtains. Can’t tell whether it’s the middle of the day or the night.”

He stood up slowly and helped Loki to his feet, and wasn’t particularly surprised when the God kept hold of his hand as he led him into his bedroom. There were no words between them, but there was no need for them; silently, Loki stripped off his armour, leaving his black pants and long-sleeved green jumper on, and hovered awkwardly at the edge of the bed.

“Go ahead,” Tony hummed. “You’ll feel better after you sleep. And if you need me, JARVIS can hear you, so all you have to do is ask him to get me and I’ll come.” Loki slipped underneath the sheets, and Tony smiled. “There you go.”

Tony went to step away, but he was stopped by a cold hand on his wrist. Loki looked like he might burst into tears at any minute.

“Stay.”

“Loki… are you sure?”

“Stay.”

Tony hesitated, but as Loki’s grip tightened, he knew he didn’t have any other choice. He pulled back the covers and got in, heart hammering, and moved Loki’s hand so that their fingers were entwined.

“I’m here.”

“Stay.”

“I will. I’m not leaving you.”

They rolled to face each other, and Tony could’ve sworn that his heart stopped beating. Loki’s dark curls were falling over his face, and he wanted to brush them away, hold Loki’s face in his hands, and kiss him senseless-

And then Loki’s lips were on his, and everything stopped.

It was as if someone had switched off every sensation in Tony’s body; every thought, every plan and idea, every feeling shut down, and all he could feel was Loki pressed against him, unusually cold lips on his. So this is what love is supposed to feel like, his mind supplied, rather unnecessarily. He knew exactly what love felt like, and Loki was the reason why.

He pulled away, and in an instant doubt crept in.

“Loki, sweetheart, are you sure about this? You’re hurting, and you’ve just let yourself open up for the first time, and I don’t wanna take advantage of that. I want this - God, I want this - but I don’t want it if you feel like… like you’re repaying some sort of debt, or that you owe me.”

Loki shook his head. “I owe you dearly, Anthony Stark, for the sheer fact that you have reminded me that there is capacity for love in my withered heart. I want this just as sincerely as you do.”

A laugh bubbled out of Tony before he could stop it, and he clapped a hand over the smile that was growing on his face.

“Sorry, this is just- this is not how I thought I’d end up kissing you for the first time.”

Loki curled closer, resting his head on the billionaire’s chest and closing his eyes. “How did you imagine our first kiss would have played out, Anthony?”

Tony caught on quickly, and pulled the covers over both of them, settling in properly and encasing Loki firmly in his arms before starting to talk. Sometime during stories of beach trips, Eiffel Tower explorations, and beautiful sunsets, Loki started to snore quietly, and Tony let the sound carry him into a peaceful sleep.