A/N: This is probably triggering for some, as I touch the subjects of cutting, drug abuse, alcohol abuse and suicide, though three of these are not described graphical (few words about the cutting though). I am warning you now. This is also a songfic, so please go to youtube and find the song "Not Enough" by Our Lady Peace. I'd advise you to put it on repeat by changing the URL for the video, adding "repeat" in between "youtube" . This will depend on how fast you read, but I'd advise you too anyway and listen to the song afterwards to let the words sink in… But that's just my opinion… I listened to Olafur Arnalds "Og Lengra" afterwards...

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Tony expected Loki to open the door. He always did. Always. Today was different. But why? Tony had known Loki for long enough to know, when he was upset. To know, when he needed a hand, though he would never ask for it, unless he was drunk or high on drugs. And Tony often called or came over to help his friend in need. He knew what it was like, being in the receiving end of multiple cases of abandonment. Thor tried his best to be the good brother, Tony knew that. But currently, his father's acceptance was more important than his brother's needs. Loki was not exactly favored by Odin. To put it mildly, Thor was the golden child. Always was, always will be. And Thor couldn't help that, Tony knew, but he couldn't help but resent him for the fact that Loki had practically been living in his shadow ever since the day he was born. Maybe not since the day he was born, since Loki was adopted, but the point was clear.

Tony could hear the music being played on the other side of the door and knocked louder this time, calling for Loki to open the fucking door, neighbors be damned.

There's nothing you can say

Nothing you can do

There's nothing in between

You know the truth

Nothing left to face

There's nothing left to lose

Nothing takes your place

Loki often used music as a sort of safe haven when he felt insecure or incompetent, and those two often went hand in hand when his father was present. Loki was typically seen wearing ear buds and having his beloved iPod Touch at his side (usually playing loud enough to rob him of his hearing before he turned 30). Tony didn't hate Odin per say, but he sure could use the book Parenting 101. When your son is in need, you don't turn him away. You fucking listen and hug the freaking life out of him, that's what you do! Tony took out the apartment's spare key from his pocket. The one Loki had given him for emergencies. The one Thor didn't have. The one Loki trusted Tony with. The music was almost deafening when the door was opened, and Tony briefly wondered if Loki had soundproofed the whole apartment.

When they say

You're not that strong

You're not that weak

It's not your fault

And when you climb up to your hill

Up to your place

I hope you're well

Tony rarely used the key, fortunately. When Loki didn't answer his door, he was usually drunk or on drugs, flying so high, not even God would be able to reach him. Loki didn't do it often, but sometimes saw it as a last resort if the music wasn't distracting him enough. Tony didn't find out about the cutting, before after 6 years of knowing Loki. He hid it that well. When Tony found out though, he wasn't so sure he wanted to know. Hundreds upon hundreds of scars littered Loki's body. Loki casually waved him off, 'no big deal' he said. Tony had felt like he wanted to cry.

There's nothing left to prove

There's nothing I won't do

There's nothing like the pain

I feel for you

Nothing left to hide

Nothing left to fear

I am always here

Tony wandered through Loki's apartment, not surprised to see smashed vases and teacups. Though the amount of tilted furniture was new, but not unusual. He cheked the stereo where Loki's beloved iPod Touch was currently the source of the music. Being connected with Loki's expensive sound system, the song was set on repeat and Tony didn't bother disconnecting it or stopping it. If Loki was really that deep in one of his moods, unplugging his distraction was a really bad idea. Speaking from experience.

"Loki, please answer me!"

When they say

You're not that strong

You're not that weak

It's not your fault

And when you climb up to your hill

Up to your place

I hope you're well

What you want

What you lost

What you had

What is gone is over

What you got

What you love

What you need

What you have is real

"Loki, please!"

Tony was now officially worried as hell. He always checked the bathroom first, as Loki was usually sitting in the bathtub, staring into space with a syringe in the arm or several bottles of vodka littering the tile floor (Loki had a liver of steel). He was nowhere in sight, and it disturbed Tony greatly. The smashed mirror wasn't exactly helping either. He finally noticed the bedroom door was closed. And before it, several drops of a thick crimson liquid painted the wooden floor red. Something cold settled in Tony's gut and he ran to the door, pounding it with all he could muster.

"Loki!"

It's not enough

It's not enough

It's not enough

It's not enough, I'm sorry

It's not enough

It's not enough

It's not enough

It's not enough

Tony had desperately hoped the cutting had diminished by now. The itch had been pretty serious about 2 years ago, but Tony was there and helped Loki when he cut too deep or when he lost control and cut too much. Tony didn't try to make him stop cold turkey. Because he knew that would be downright impossible. But he made Loki promise he would at the very minimum call when he felt the need, so they could try to solve whatever problem Loki might have. Tony was there for him. The drugs were never that serious, and the drinking never went further, than creating a fucked up hangover. The cutting however, was worse than Tony thought and was apparently not stopping any time soon.

When they say

You're not that strong

You're not that weak

It's not your fault

And when you climb up to your hill

Up to your place

I hope you're well

The door finally caved in, being nearly kicked off its hinges as Tony had grown more desperate. Tony stopped dead in his tracks and he felt the air leave his lungs. His entire being froze at the sight and he felt like someone had punched him in the gut and then dumped a bucket of ice water on his head.

"Loki."

He couldn't breathe. He couldn't think. He felt his legs turn weak and with a quiet whimper he sank to his knees. He held a hand to his mouth as he felt his stomach flip in his gut. It was because of sheer will only, that he didn't throw up. He slowly crawled forward and tenderly touched Loki's motionless form. The shoulder seemed to be the ideal place to grab and Tony shook the man, his friend, hoping to wake him up, praying that this wasn't really happening. Something stung in the corner of his eyes and he shook his friend harder, now positively desperate.

"LOKI!"

Blood. Blood everywhere. It stained his clothes. It stained his skin. It stained his face. It stained the floor. It stained his friend. It painted the harsh reality for Tony; Loki won't answer your calls. He won't answer your pleads, your prayers, your begging. He won't and never will. Not anymore.

It's not enough

No

It's not enough

It's not enough

"LOKI!"