Do not cry for hope that is lost, cry for the future no more.

o0o0o0o0o

Tony sways against his side before resting a shoulder to the wall of the stairway, the mortals breath coming out in short panicked pants that are not a sure sign of health.

"Here." Loki offers the last of the water with a mask of indifference, Tony taking it from his hand with a weighty sigh as they survey their hell.

The floor they had landed on, stairs ending nicely into a door was supposed to have been their hope, their freedom just one more floor down. Not a ruble covered grave.

"We... we'll have to crawl." The man next to him says, bringing the bottle to his lips as he examines the pile of bricks and wood raised nearly to the roof of the space. "We... I... fuck. That's going to be dark." Tony groans sinking to his knees now, his head bowed down to the dirt littered floor as his breath comes out in panicked gasps.

Loki is by his side in a moment. Long legs folded so his knees are up to his chest to hide the way his body has taken up shaking.

"We can do this." Tony's voice sounds weak and lacks any kind of conviction.

"Yes. It should be passable. If the course is clear to the other stairs." Loki agrees.

Tony hangs his head and rubs his hands over his face his hands stop as the tips of his dirty fingers brush over the thin line of blood working its way from ears to jaw. Tired brown eyes close and for a moment despair flitters across the IronMan's strong face before the man slams down a mask of resolve and nods his head slowly.

"Come on. No better time than the now."

"I do hope you know what you're doing." Loki sighs wearily.

"Not a clue, come on." Tony says, holding a hand down, the tired smile on his face is fake but the steel determination is back in his eyes and it's enough strength for Loki to hold onto. Leaning heavily on his scepter and lightly taking the mortals hand Loki raises back to his feet. His head swims with the shift and his vision threatens with an unnatural darkness around the edges but his side remains numb; the uncomfortable tingling in his fingertips not unlike the feel of magic gathering there but there's nothing at his call. In the quiet darkness of their tomb Loki is a logical enough person to know he's dying.

"You should lead the way, the light."

Dusty brown hair twitches as Tony shakes his head a little "The lights going to be useless in here. I'm going to be down on my chest."

"I had wondered, is it not removable?" Loki asks, grateful for the distraction as he reaches out to touch the odd thing just below the shirts flimsy covering. The mortal doesn't even flinch away at the feather soft contact.

Tony chuckles darkly at the simple question and shakes his head. "It can come out, but then I'd be dead."

He's disappointed by the numb feel of his fingers touching the ring. He wonders what it really feels like. Is it hot like the Tesseract or cold like the Casket? Pulling his hand back and lifting his eyes to Tony's as his words sink in slower than they should. "Dead?"

"It's a long story." Tony grunts looking to the rubble like he's trying to best decide on a plan of attack, it's a nice ruse to hide the pain in his eyes.

"Later then." Loki admits, acknowledging that some stories should not be told so close to their death beds. Tipping his head and watching the smaller man stumble and grunt as he gets up into the space with an odd grace to him. Waiting till the space is empty once more before reaching up to follow.

Loki's heart is a calm beat in his chest as he climbs up the bricks and rubble; the space is tight and for the first time in what feels like hours his side reawakens in pain. Closing his eyes against the darkness and pain as he pants, his own breaths mixing with Tony's in the dark tight space.

o0o0o0o0o

They are in a tomb. This is the icing on their oh-god-fuck-mess cake.

Loki's breaths are a panicked pant behind him and his own are coming out rough because shit this is above his head but sitting in that stairwell for the rest of his very short little life was out of the question. They're going to die in here though, Loki's wheezed pants are coming out cut short and there's the thick stench of blood in the air once more.

Tony tries to turn around but the pathway in front of him is too damn narrow, closing his eyes tight to block out memories and dust he stretches back with his hand, scratching his cheek on the rubble. "Give me your fucking hand."

"We are... we are to die and you wish to hold my hand?" Loki is past panic and into hysteria, the once composed velvet voice wrecked by what can be chocked back sobs or laughter or both. Im-fucking-possible.

"Give me your god damn hand." Tony barks using his voice like a hard slap to calm the panicked god because sure as shit he's going to have a heart attack himself. His pounding heart hammering so hard the blood rushing in his ears and the punctuated sounds of their breathing is all he can hear. Maybe that's all there is to hear. Screwing his eyes closed tighter he tries to keep the leaky lid on his on panic down tight.

In the constrictive darkness it seems to take forever before cold thin fingers slip into his hand. Tony latches onto that, feeling the shaking and the anguish through the simple small touch and in that moment needing more. Rubble scraping against his knees and belly as he struggles to reposition.

"Stop. Moving." Loki's pain filled breath gasps though the air and Tony stills only because he's been requested too. As much as he wants to get the hell out of this space, he can't handle the soft begging fear in that voice.

Tony breaths heavily and feels out with his free hand around him further, scooting a bit till his back is against the wall and there's the slimiest pocket of light when he shifts to his side. Wonderful beautiful light that chases away the shadows for a few inches and offers them their own private heaven. There's something digging into his shoulder it's really fucking uncomfortable but he can just make out Loki's thin hand holding onto his.

"Come on. Just a little bit more. Come up here next to me." There's a low beg to his voice now and he doesn't give a fuck. He gives Loki's hand a limp tug but there's no response. Not even a twitch of fingers. Tony's heart jumping into his throat as he tugs the god's hand again. Swallowing and holding his breath as he strains his ears to listen. The silence consumes him up and his lid comes undone when the cold realization that he's the only one breathing hits him.

"Oh, no. no you don't. Not in here. Come on. Come on, you fucker. You stupid stubborn bastard. Where is your fight!?" Tony growls, pulling on the hand with all the strength left in his body.

There's so much wrong with the situation that if Tony listed it all he'd be well into a book the size of a dictionary as he wraps his arms around Loki's shoulders and pulls. The adrenalin fueling his body and bringing them chest to chest in the tight space. Black hair blends with shadow making Loki look even more ghost pale. He's breathing though, nothing but shallow draws, his heart is a humming bird fluttering wings against the iron bars of the god's ribs.

"Fuck. I think I hate you." Tony groans clenching the unmoving body close till Loki's breath is tickling across his dirty throat, a frail reminder of life. He hates to admit he's craving this right now, the closeness. Needing to prove the body in his arms is alive.

The shaking god in his arms is dying though, he's sure about it. With all his smarts and all of the god's powers, Tony is sure Loki is dying, maybe they both are.

Scratch the maybe.

"Fuck..." He breathes out a shaky breath, tucking his chin down so his nose is buried in the other man's hair. Holding tighter still.

After all his work and struggles he's still going to die in a cave. Its man made this time but still no better than Afghanistan and how jacked up is that. Life's just laughing it up for the irony of the moment.

He's going to die in another cave.

Just like Afghanistan, and Loki is going to die just like Yinsen.

"Come on, buddy. I need you to wake up again." He groans against the hair as the rubble over them shifts a little, the building moaning in its final death throws. Loki's breath against his neck is whisper soft now and Tony bites back the urge to scream, his fingers clenching in the thin material of Loki's tunic.

"Don't you do this. I said I'd get you out of here alive. Don't make a liar of me. Don't make me bury you too." He does scream now, gripping the thin shoulders tight and shaking him. Feeding all his anger and panic and gut wrenching terror into the scream till his throat is raw and there's blood in the back of his mouth and he's sure he'll be horse for days.

Green eyes flutter open with a startled gasp of air, their breaths mixing in the tiny space between them before slowly they fluttering closed again, never once focusing on Tony. Just like a candle flickering on the last ashes of its life providing wood.

"Tell me you're alive, you little shit."

"Loki, please... Tony, if you insist on first names. Use mine." The words are whisper thin against Tony's neck but in the cramped space it's all that's needed. Clasping the god tight to his chest once more, relieved at the feel of long cold fingers weakly grabbing onto his shirt in return.

"Loki, I thought you had died." He admits, breathing out a choked laugh, not letting up on the tight hold. "I don't even know if you can die."

"I... believe... I may have." Loki drags in a wheezing breath but otherwise makes no further move to get away from Tony. "That... was not desirable."

"I think some people wouldn't mind." He admits with a sigh closing his eyes, here in the dark it's pointless to keep them open anyways. Burrowing his nose into the god's silky, dirty hair with a mirthless smile. "I can name a few... thousand."

"With the spell... incomplete... it would matter... little..." A shiver runs down the long spine as the voice drifts off, the body in his arms threatening to go lax once more. Teetering on the edge of death.

"No. Stay with me here. What about the spell? What were you doing?" Tony had wondered for some time now but the god had not given him an opportunity to question that aspect. He'd assumed that it was something malevolent but then again Loki had planted the seed of doubt in his mind hours ago.

Letting his hand drift down and back up that lean spine without meaning to Tony waits for something, anything. Just not death.

"I was fixing... what I broke."

"What did you break? That bridge? The Rosen Bridge that is used to travel?"

"No..." Loki groans against him, like he's trying to wake up from a long deep sleep that stubbornly tries to pull him under again. "When I fell... I broke the... you wouldn't understand."

Ah. Yes. That is the voice of the god he knows. It's like a breath of fresh clean air to Tony; no one can be that cynical and dying.

"Try me; I'm known to be a little smart."

There's an indifferent moment as Loki clears his throat, breath tickling against Tony's throat with the move. "When I fell from Asgard I tore through something. The hole is still there. There is a great evil... he was on the other side of the nothingness between the worlds. This... shell that now has a crack in it had been keeping him from entering the realms."

"Give me an idea of your definition of evil." Tony asks, not liking the sound of this. Some intergalactic protective embryonic membrane had been disturbed by Loki's fall, maybe by the collapse of the Rosen Bridge, he'd have to take a crack at the numbers but he can see how it may be possible if he could only figure out how to equate in magic and shit he's never messed with before.

"It craves death, it courts it with a love that is not natural and its sights have been set onto the nine realms. An untouched feast waiting for him."

Death. The destruction of everything. All caused by one little god falling from grace.

"You can fix it?" He asks softly, slowly shifting so Loki is away from his chest, the dim light between them. Green tired eyes fix onto his arc and Tony can feel the soft trace of fingers over his shirt.

"I can. With time and power."

"Life on the run a little hard?"

"I would have been successful if not for an obnoxious mortal." Tony has to choke down a chuckle at that.

"Why didn't you come to us the first time? Why did you wage war?"

"Because I had to. To leave his hold I had to vow to bring the Tesseract back to him."

"It makes a bigger hole than the one you did." Tony grumbles, things clicking into place. It's all fucked up but it makes sense. More than the 'kneel' ever did.

Coulson was right, damn it. Loki lacked conviction.

"I'll get us out of here... and you can close your hole." Because he's not thinking past that. The idea of the world being served onto a platter for an evil hungry something makes his skin crawl.

"I believe that time has come to past." The low voice is breathed against his skin as Loki settles back against his chest with a tired sound. Like a cat crawling off to die, he's accepted his death.

Tony frowns and grabs onto the thin shoulders again, deciding against shaking the god but pushing him far enough away that Loki's washed out green eyes have to look up to him again. "No. you don't give up now. That's bullshit. I will get you out of here and you will heal and work your magic."

"Tony."

"Bullshit. Shut your mouth. I'm getting you out. You can bleed on my sofa till your ready to work your magic."

"Your commanding officers-"

"Will never know."

"The other avenging humans-"

"Will. Never. Know."

"Odin... Thor..."

That gave Tony a pause but he shrugs his shoulders the best he can in the cramped space. "Fuck them."

o0o0o0o0o0

The solders had arrived only an hour after Natasha had made the call although she now refused to speak to Clint. The odd love spat was a wedge the team didn't need but the archer had done the right thing.

Rogers didn't want to think that it had almost taken them all walking away for backup to arrive. It's hard enough to see it happen.

"Come on. We're going straight to Tony's last coordinates now." Banner says as he comes jogging over, having passed over the last of his instructions to an acting EMT.

Clapping his dusty hands together with hope in his brown eyes, Steve prays that hope isn't misplaced. Tony's been missing for hours now, the sun starting its long trek into the ocean and already the mountains to the east are looking deeper in color. They've only an hour or so of light left for the day. Tony should have checked in by now.

"Don't." Banner says, getting into Steve's face with a frown. "Remember. Hope is our most valuable weapon in a time like this."

"Come on girls, no more chatty time." Clint says as he passes by them, the toxic air of anger still pouring off of him in waves as he pushes through the group and out into the street. Boots crunching over ruined asphalt and glass. He looks over his shoulder at them, a glance really, without breaking stride.

Rogers doesn't have enough personal knowledge of Clint to say why, but the archer is clearly unsettled, has been since Loki's first attack. Although he vowed that the Tesseract had no lasting impact on him, Rogers can't help feel that the master assassin is hiding something.

o0o0o0o0o0o

The air smells of desolation and death in the darkness Tony has decided. The sharp metallic tang of blood mixed with sweat and fear. It smells like Afghanistan and that damn cave.

"We've got to get moving again. We're so close I can taste it."

"I'm glad one of us can. I fear all I taste is bl-"

"Don't say that." Tony grunts removing his hand from the god's soft lips were he'd silenced him.

They had covered a little ground through the dark passage but needed to rest before long. Loki's consciousness balanced on a razor edge between life and death, his eyes long having lost the green glow to them. Even in the cramped heat of their personal hell his body is colder against Tony's. Cold as a dead body.

Tony's not lying though, he swears a moment ago a breath of fresh air had ghosted over them like the building itself was breathing. They had to be near the door. And on the other side of it was stairs to freedom. He refused to let himself think that the warehouse might have already collapsed. It just wasn't a possibility.

"I grow tired mortal." Loki's breath ghosts against his shoulder, Tony having forced the god to stay with him. By his side, no more dying. It was an unspoken rule and one Tony refused to let the god break.

"Tony." He reminds.

"I grow tired, Tony."

Only a dying god can say his name and it still sound like he's saying worm. They had been resting though, and Tony was sure that if he let Loki sit unmoving too long, he'd never get him moving again. Rubbing his arm over Loki's shoulder he shrugs limply in the crammed space.

"Cry me a river. Come on." He says, nudging his elbow to Loki's chest, waiting for the sound of scraping rubble before edging foreword himself. Keeping them moving in the same general directing the whole time, it was easier when he could keep a wall to his side but after some time that grew impossible due to rubble. Sweeping a hand out in front of him as he blindly searches for the door.

Lifting his head and squinting his eyes in the darkness as they hit a smooth wall. "Well what do we have here?" He can't help but grin, feeling along the smooth surface for molding. Please be door. Please be- "YES!" He shouts, startling the god at his side.

"Door?" Loki asks on an exhale.

"Move over." Tony says, shifting around so that he's backwards, kicking his feet against the door and grunting in pain as the thing doesn't budge. The rubble above them groaning threateningly through dust drifting down.

"I would advise not doing that again." Loki warns but Tony doesn't care, he's tired of dying and death and this fucking hole.

Bringing his knees up to his chest he kicks out again.

This kick lands solid, the door giving under the blunt force and light fills the dark space, chasing away the shadows as fresh air flows in.

Closing his eyes and breathing in the clear fresh air for a moment Tony blinks back the threat of wetness to his scratchy eyes. Freedom. They're really not going to die here. They've actually made it.

"Oh thank you god." He groans as he scrubs his hands over his face before shifting about in the rubble. Coming around to Loki's side, the god is quiet again. Washed out eyes looking just as wet as he looks out into the warehouse.

"We did it." Tony proclaims, digging his fingers into all that inky hair and bringing the dirty forehead to his mouth before he can stop himself. Loki breathing a sigh against his neck, a few quiet words leaving his mouth in a language Tony doesn't even pretend to understand but the way they're said Tony's pretty sure their god speak of 'thank you god'. Or thank you whatever gods thank.

"That... appears easy compared to what we've been through." Loki sighs as Tony lets go of him. Shifting to look down at the rubble a story below their feet. There's a rough steel staircase that seems to have survived the earthquake intact below them leading down into a pool of carnage. The brick building still standing in a wide open space but whatever machinery had once stood is now a ruin of sharp metal. Even from here he can see the door way though.

"No shit." Tony chuckles, his head protesting and coughing up a dusty breath before attempting to climb down.

o0o0o0o0o0o

Loki watches as the mortal has to shift around and approach the exit backwards, dropping down the few feet, disappearing from his view for a moment before Tony's sneakers land in a crash against the metal grating of the stairs. There's a silent heartbeat before Tony stands back up straight, one hand to his head.

In the blaring light of day he can see every cut and scratch on the human's skin. Those brown eyes are brighter now though, hope of survival so close fuelling the fire that burns in the man. Frumpy dust covered brown hair is sticking up in spikes from blood and sweat. His shirt and slacks are stained with blood and Loki is sure most of that is his.

"Come on down princess, I'll catch you." He quips, that smile between his beard makes him look roguish. Surrounded by destruction the human is oddly in his element here just as much as he was in his lavish home with drinks in hand.

Shoving his scepter down to Tony the man catches it then offers up a hand. "Come on, we do this slowly, you don't bleed out." He makes a little shrugging motion. "More than you already have."

Sucking in a hissed breath as he reaches for the hand, his vision swimming sickly and he's not sure now if he's going to throw up as his side stretches. Clasping tight to the hand and giving a shove against the rubble under him. Gravel biting into his palm as he shoves off the small cliff edge. Trying to keep his balance with his legs and help the human who's trying to grab his shoulders. Tony's fingers slipping and loosing their purchase in weakness, sunlight and fresh air can only do so much to replace the damage done to the mortal's head.

And like that he's falling. Only this one is dramatically shorter than his first fall from favor, the ending impact is almost worst.

Gritting his teeth hard and sucking back a scream as he lands none too easily onto the grating next to Tony's feet.

"Ah, fuck!" Tony swears but Loki just can't will his eyes to stay open any more. Feeling the man's hands on him, but things are numb and far away like his body is in a tunnel, separate from his mind.

Tony's screaming something, something fast and panicked but he can't

seem to care, his mind to far from his body now and here there's no pain. Nothing but a safe place to sleep and even gods need safe places to sleep.

O0o0o00o0o0o

Fury wasn't what Clint wanted to see when they came around the turn to the half collapsed building that Tony had last been in. If Tony was still in there, it was going to take them all night digging to find the body.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Whipping off his sunglasses his stares eye for eye at the commanding officer that at one time he had at least a little respect for.

"I don't have time for you right now. Where the hell is Stark?"

"I'm right here, miss me?" Clint turns to the side of the brick rubble where a door is open as Bruce and Rogers go running to the man who looks a moment past collapsing. Stark pushes the helping hands away though, shifting to a wider stance so he doesn't fall. "No. Get your hands off me right now. I'm fine."

"Where is Loki? We need to start searching the city for him now."

"You don't need to look." Tony says, pulling strips of what was probably once green fabric from his pants pockets, the blood stains leaving the emerald the color of oxidizing copper. Something caught between red and green. "He's dead."

There's something akin to true pain in the geniuses eyes as he throws the fabric in to Fury's chest before pushing past the little group, wiping his hands on his pants before rubbing his bare chest over his heart like its hurt too. An invisible wound that is far worse than the scratches and bruises that litter his body.

Clint isn't sure what happened in that building but Stark is walking the limp of a battle lost soldier. Their little team of heroes is as scattered as the winds blowing the dust.

Natasha refuses to look at him as Bruce and Rogers look on with an equal mix of hurt and confusion.

Sharing a glance at Fury before they walk off after Stark. Fury stands strong, too dense or stubborn to see that somehow they'd lost this battle. There is no high fives and beer after; only going home to lick their wounds in silence.

O0o0o0o0o0o

If anyone saw IronMan fly into the ruined city of LA that night, no one said a word.

No one made a fuss about him entering the falling building that only a few hours before he'd came out of looking like death.

Not a soul mentioned him removing a broken body with gentle hands, holding his unmoving package close like it's precious to him before rocketing off into the night's sky.