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All things considered, it hadn't been too long since Tony last saw the god of thunder. There's been no extreme passage of time to mark the changes taking place under Stark Tower, no lengthy explanation to why Loki's doing better or why Tony's fucked in the head.

That would make it all a little easier to explain and life does seem to be a bitch right now concerning all things easy.

Thor eyes his brother with a healthy mix of weariness and all-encompassing concern, his summer blue sky eyes taking in the drained leanness to Loki's body and the love marks on his neck before turning from him to Tony. Loki's eyes track Thor with just as open curiosity as the large blond walks off the lift with easy strides.

Thor looks just as changed by the week as Tony feels, his strong shoulders tense and when he turns his eyes to him, they look tired beyond his years. Or maybe just catching up to his true age. It's a look that doesn't fit the prince well at all, but one he probably wears more often than not these days.

He's sans cape this time, dressed in what's got to be down time clothes for the guy; dark colored tunic and leggings that look to be butter soft suede that are tucked into knee high boots. It would be a comical outfit on anyone else, but Thor still looks every inch the king in it.

The thunderer slips a tanned leather satchel off his shoulders; something more from an Indiana Jones movie than Lord of the Rings like the rest of the guy. "Br-Loki." he catches himself in greeting, big hands clenching at the leather strap to stop himself from reaching out, tendons standing out like a body builder with the strain of his internal dilemma.

Thor wears his heart on his sleeve, that's for sure, but so does Loki. Tony can all but feel Loki humming with tension against his side, taking half a step forward before catching himself.

Tony really wishes they'd fix things between the two of them but Loki makes no further move, stepping back a pace, the frown haunting his face directed at his brother.

Thor's jaw bunches as he grits his teeth before turning his equally unfriendly greeting to him. "Stark."

Tony takes the gruffness as greeting more as a sign that bad news is to come and less as a sign that Thor's pissed directly at him. He rubs his hands together before splaying them out to display to Thor. "You're back soon, big guy. I thought you'd spend a longer time away."

"I received the news I sought sooner than anticipated. I forgive you for intruding but I was hoping to check up on things here. I've brought provisions for Loki as well." He holds the satchel up in a way of explanation. His eyes are on Loki again, drinking in the sight of the chaos god with open relief and sadness.

Tony nods and has to remind himself that when Thor last saw his little non-brother the younger god was close to death and being left in the hands of a stranger; there was no guarantee that Thor would arrive to find Loki still alive. And even now that the chaos god is alive and well, he's still a cold enigma to Thor, little warmer than an iceberg.

Tony offers a bemused smile when Loki makes no move to interact or greet his brother beyond standing as still and silent as a sycamore tree. "That's fine. Come in, sit. You want food?" he asks, taking a few steps back and waving a hand in the direction of the darkened kitchenette. Because asking that is a lot better than blurting out demands on what's word from Asgard.

Thor shakes his head, denying the offer as he strides into the dimly lit room and passes the bag to Loki, who takes it with a frown, before pulling at the old leather ties on the bag with quick fingers, looking in without spilling anything out. "You've been in my rooms."

Thor flinches at the ice cold tone used and maybe a bit at the still broken sound to Loki's voice before nodding slowly. "I had hoped you can forgive me for that slight once you see what I've brought you."

Tony feels very much like he's intruding on matters he doesn't belong in as the two Asgardians seem to dance around each other for a moment, before Thor locks in on him with a cryptic look that's nearly begging for time alone with his brother. Tony gives him a little sheepish smile but when he opens his mouth to excuse himself Loki glances his way, with a quick arched eyebrow, the god glaring slowly at catching him sneaking off and he feels like a bug attached to a pegboard.

Yeouch.

"I need ah- a shower?" he tries hard, rubbing a hand to the back of his neck and becoming all too aware that he's still shirtless and both he and Loki smell of sex and sweat. Glancing quickly down to the hammer hanging off the thunder god's belt he feels his face heat.

That's going to be the thing used to bash his brains in, unless Thor is feeling in a hands-on mood. Great. He hasn't felt this way since he was seventeen.

"I would like to have words with my brother in private but I will still be here when you return," Thor deems, waving him off like Tony's simply a member of his court and invading upon the conversation by simply being in the same building. Loki seems okay with this as he clutches the bag by the wide leather strap and turns away, tucking himself into a corner of the couch before rifling through the bag like a child on Christmas day.

The blatant way Loki's ignoring his brother seems natural between the two of them to the point that Tony almost feels safe leaving them alone for a while.

Almost.

It doesn't stop him from watching from the hallway as the two brothers, contrasting as day and night, sit on opposite ends of the couch with unearthly snow falling in the background before turning away. He waits a few moments, but neither jump for each other's throats or start screaming insults so he pushes away from where he's leaned up against the wall.

Under the blue glare of the bathroom lights he misses the mirrors, part of him wanting to see just how un-presentable he is in the presence of an alien prince and god of storms. Rubbing his shoulders, he steps around the broken glass still gathered in the corners of the marble floor like a thousand diamonds.

There's a sore spot near his neck where Loki had sank his teeth into his skin. Closing his eyes as he rubs the spot, he can almost still hear the choked moans from the deity, see the beautiful way he arched against the reactor glass.

Which is the most ass thing for him to be thinking of.

He fiddles with the dials fast and angrily, turning the water up past hot to boiling before he strips off his pants. Pissed at himself for thinking about sex at a time like this; when he knows Thor's brought bad news - there was just too much fucking depth in Thor's tone for it not to be bad news - and who knows what kind of otherworldly hell is building in the storm outside.

Loki's one good chance at getting a better life has been cut short by Thor returning; something that's both a blessing and a curse. Looking at the water whirl pooling around the drain and beating itself against the tile, Tony drags in a deep breath of thick steam and lets it out as a gravelly groan.

It wasn't just Thor's return that's fucked everything up.

The lust that had pooled in his belly curdles like milk left out too long in the summer heat, making him sick to his stomach with disgust, the steamy air around him only adding to it.

He had one job - one fucking job - to help Loki; and here he's taken something of pure intentions and bastardized it to the point the original purpose has become clouded. He's sure Yinsen would be disappointed in him, shaking his head as he cleans his glasses on his shirt tails. Disappointed just like his father and Pepper and everyone else in the fucking world.

Hissing in a breath as he steps under the hot stream of water, he takes the pain with self-loathing, scrubbing his hair and body free of the clean wintery scent of Loki and trying not to miss it like a sap…

Resting his hands against the wall, he leans his head down against the marble, shivering despite the scalding heat of water soaking down his back and shoulders. "Fuck. Tony. Get a grip," he repeats with each breath of thick air, the chant slowing his heart rate and calming him enough to think.

He needs to contact SHIELD, but the thought of Fury barging in here with the same cold intent that Bruce had instantly tenses him back up, his shoulders tight. At this point not only is he aiding a known intergalactic war criminal, but so has just about everyone else on the team.

Fury will fry not just him, but all of them alive for this and then where will Loki be; on the edge of maybe changing his life for the better only to be put through whatever fuckload kind of punishment SHIELD can cough up in the name of justice.

No.

He needs to find out what Thor's news is and what the god's opinion of this threat Loki's hinted at. Assemble the team himself if the need is there. Bypass SHIELD.

Stepping out of the shower and toweling himself dry, he throws the towel around his waist and wonders about the consequences to walking out there sans clothing just to make sure everything's okay but when he doesn't hear the sounds of bloodshed or yelling though, he decides against it,opting to take his time instead.

In all seriousness, the two brothers - or non-brothers as it is - have a lot they've got to be talking about. Pulling on a gray long sleeve and jeans from his closet, he wonders if this is it. If Asgard has come to take Loki back and Thor is collecting him to… to what?

It will be over Tony's dead body if it's back to more punishment. But if Thor's worked out some way for the god of chaos to return to his home without further punishment... If he's welcomed back openly...

Who is Tony to stand in the way of that?

Even if it leaves him feeling like he's been punched in the gut.

Sitting on the edge of his bed, he looks back at the messed up silk sheets and tries not to think about what kind of ethereal vision Loki would make curled in the clouds of gray with the sun painting his skin gold.

He marks the feelings down as brokenhearted with a mirthless chuckle, finishing dressing and combing out his damp hair with his fingers. He should call up Pepper, maybe even Happy or Rhodey; have Jarvis mark the date and time down on a calendar so TMZ can blare it on the cover of the next issue.

Tony Stark's feeling emotionally attached after a quick hand job.

It's even worse than when Pepper broke it off with him, because at least then he had the excuse of them being an undisclosed item for so very long.

What he'd had with Pepper was completely different though, he's relating to Loki in a way that he's never been able to coexist with anyone ever before and the idea of that being ripped away from him when it's all still so new feeling leaves him pushing his palms to his temples in a means to block out the thoughts.

He simply refuses to become emotionally dependent on someone in just a week.

Too late.

Pushing his bare feet into sneakers and all thoughts to the back of his mind, he quietly pads down the hall, back to the community room where he'd left the thunderer with Loki. Ready to bite the bullet for whatever news the world brings with it.

Thor's still sitting on the couch just where Tony had left him, his wide shoulders dropped down in defeat as he combs his fingers though his wavy hair in a methodical way.

For one heart-stopping moment, Tony has to search to find Loki, standing back at the windows with a brave straight spine and air of confidence that's ill-suited to the way his head rests against the glass tiredly.

"Shower's free if you want to take one, Loki," he says, clearing his throat and coming around the recessed drop in the floor, sitting with his legs stretched out over the plush white carpet. He's itching to go to Loki, but with Thor sitting not too far away he's respectful enough to keep his distance.

Loki simply shakes his head no, a silent presence of darkness against the gray snow blowing outside.

"I have spoken with my brother," Thor says, reaching across the couch to grab the satchel left by Loki, pushing clothes and a few bound books back in, tying the bag closed before setting it back in its spot. Tidying. He can remember his mother doing that, cleaning the house when things were hard between her and his father. Busy work for bad news.

"You said you would." He nods dully, watching Thor rub his hands together and push back his mane of hair again.

"I have spoken with our father- my father-" he corrects himself with a flinch. "He says Loki's punishment is not seen as fulfilled."

"Meaning?" Tony drawls out, wrapping his arms around his chest as his skin rises in goosebumps. He wants to blame it on the rapidly dropping temperature outside and not the dread of Loki being dragged back out into that hellish world Thor had saved him from, but that's a big fucking lie.

"I am to bring my brother back to Jotunheim to fulfill his punishment to end, without further intervention," Thor says solemnly, shaking his big head and looking to Loki. Tony turns his eyes to the younger god too, seeing him standing there at the window and pretending not to hear his fate being decided so casually by a man who was supposed to be his father.

Jumping to his feet and jabbing a threatening finger at Thor, Tony feels anger burn through him, super nova hot. The god gives a pleased smile as Tony falls into an angry tirade of swears. "Fuck you and fuck Asgard and you know what? Sorry buddy. Not going to happen. You've got to get though me and Rhodey and I'm willing to bet Steve is going to back me on this and maybe even Clint. You're not taking him back, you can tel-"

"I'm not, Son of Stark," Thor says, rising to his feet, all six feet of Norse god making his spacious penthouse feel like a microscopic apartment in downtown Bronx. He stretches out an arm and clasps Tony's shoulder in a vice like grip.

"Wha..?"

Thor shakes his head, looking to Loki like he wants to reach out and grasp him too, but knowing better than to even try. Like Loki is a ghost to Thor that the Asgardian can only pretend to touch.

"I informed my father that he can find someone else to return my brother to Jotunheim. That whomever he sends will have to face me." Thor drops his hand to touch the heft of the hammer hanging from his side. An unspoken promises of blood and death that has Tony glad that he's on the god's side. "We may not be related by blood, but Loki is my brother and I will protect him as such," Thor says, returning to his seat on the couch.

Loki has not moved an inch when Tony turns to him. The god of thunder gives a soft understanding nod as Tony glances to him before moving to Loki's side.

Loki's as tense as a piano wire where he's leaning against the glass. Tony reaches out slowly and sets a gentle hand against the back of the god's neck, rubbing his thumb over the top bump of his spine, feeling his subtle shakes.

Tony squeezes his hand in what he hopes is reassurance, trying to draw Loki's attention from the snow. He seems to be so distant and lost as he watches the fat flakes. "So you're staying, huh?"

Loki nods finally, turning his head to the side to glance to him. His eyes are bright in the dim light as they finally focus on him. "On Midgard. Yes."

Tony nods, dropping his hand down and leaning his shoulder against the window. Blocking the hellish snow from his and Loki's view and basking instead in the sight of the dark god before him. "Here, in the tower, with me. Or at Malibu. Or where ever you want to go, we go."

"I am not a pet," Loki hisses, eyes sharpening and Tony smiles, shaking his head no because Loki's lips are pulled into just enough of a tight grin that he knows the words have no bite to them.

"No. You're free to go anywhere you want to, I just want you to know that my door is always open to you. Both of you." He says loud enough that he's sure Thor can hear him, the big god reclining back on the couch in a relaxed way.

The smile that Thor gives is warm and genuine and Tony wonders if Loki could even smile like that if he wanted to. Not the hidden little smirks that twist his lips and make his eyes sparkle but a true full blown grin. He'd like to find out.

If they live through this, through this war over Loki and whatever is blowing into New York like a blizzard.

"Go on. Go take a shower and crash in bed. Thor here isn't going anywhere. I'm not. The storm's obviously not," he says in a softer tone, clasping the ends of inky locks between his thumb and index finger, twisting them about before Loki pulls away with a barely contained smile, still trying to retain his frown from before.

"Go Loki. You smell of rut," Thor demands from the depths of the room and Tony hadn't even heard the guy move from the couch to the fridge in the kitchenette, obviously making himself at home considering the way he's all but climbing into the fridge in search of the previously offered food.

"Scandalous," Tony chuckles, with Loki giving him a scathing look before walking slowly from the room. He's smart enough not to follow, pretty sure if he tails the god to make sure he'll be okay that Loki will take a pleasure in ripping things off his body that he much enjoys keeping. It doesn't stop him from watching Loki walking slowly down the hall, one hand trailing against the stone wall to help maintain his balance.

"You shouldn't do that. Coddling him only angers him so much more." It's really not an insult, as much as it's the older Asgardian knowing to keep his distance from his brother at a time like this, something Tony is just starting to learn.

Tony draws his shoulders up in a limp shrug, glancing over his shoulder at the big blond god who's making quick work of a peanut butter sandwich that Tony didn't even know he had the bread for.

Apparently someone adapts easily enough to suddenly being homeless.

Then again, this wouldn't be Thor's first trip off to Midgard after his father had booted him out.

"Like you have room to talk? He's your little brother," Tony reminds, remembering clearly how unwilling Thor had been to let Loki out of his sight when he'd first invaded Earth.

Thor shrugs his wide shoulders with a bemused look, stuffing the last bit of bread into his mouth before scraping the knife around the jar of Chunky Jiff. "You should be proud of yourself, he does not lay with just anyone," he says around his mouthful.

Tony winces and eyes the hammer hanging from Thor's hip as he comes closer to the counter. "Ah. Yeah. Sorry about that. Are you going to bash my head in now or after a glass of milk to wash down that sandwich?"

Thor looks genuinely confused for a second before chuckling, but seems to take the milk offer to heart, turning back to the fridge while waving a passing hand at Tony. "Nay. My brother can lay with whoever he wants. That has never been a worry to me. He is wise and careful in picking his lovers."

Huh. Copacetic.

"I'm not concerned with that. What worries me is his healing." Thor's voice carries from within the fridge, the goofy position doing nothing to hide the genuine worry from his tone.

"Worried? He's doing great. He bounced back hell of a lot faster than I've ever seen or heard of from anyone, considering the wounds he showed up with, the whole drug fiasco."

Thor rises enough to look at him over the door of the refrigerator with a frown, shaking his head a little and shutting the door. He crosses his arms over his wide as a fucking state chest and leans back against the fridge, dwarfing the kitchenette's small space. "I have seen many a warrior come back from battle. They seem fine. Their wounds heal, and they move on with life, but the battlefield haunts them. I feared that Loki would be one to fall victim to this when he'd first come to Midgard seeking the Tesseract. He had the same fevered look to his eyes as those fallen warriors would get. My brother's mind was far removed in those three days but it only seems more so now."

"PTSD," Tony says with a nod, coming around the counter and seating himself on a barstool, folding his hands on the cold marble for a second before fidgeting, smoothing his palms flat against the counter insteadand giving Thor's confused look a tired smile. "We have it here too. I think he's going to be okay with time."

Thor looks to him, those crystalline blue eyes sharp and just as cutting as Loki's glares can be. "How can yo-"

"You trusted me to help him, Thor. Don't stop trusting me now," he says, cutting Thor off with a glare.

Thor considers his words with a guarded expression, his eyes warming a little as he seems to come to a conclusion. "I've yet to doubt my judgment of you, Stark."

"Good. Glad that's out of the way." He nods, pushing a hand through his damp hair and looking to the windows. Beyond their reflection is the blowing storm, darkness and a blanket of white covering the city one bit at a time. Just watching it gives him chills.

"Loki said something strange a few hours ago about the storm," Tony tries, pushing a coaster around the counter, stopping to rub the tips of his fingers over his mouth as he tries to put the right words together.

"The storm?" Thor questions, gesturing to the windows with a wide sweep of his hand. Tony rolls his eyes, like he could be referring to another storm freezing the shit out of the North East coast of the United States.

"Yeah. The storm. He said something about how it's not normal for here; I'm pretty inclined to agree to that. I've been on Earth my whole life and I've never seen anything like this. It feels different." Tapping his index finger to the side of his head, he tries to explain better. "There's this pull, like someone's tied an anchor to the back of my teeth that tells me to get the fuck away from here."

"I wish my brother had said something to me, but I do agree, it feels of magic. It is much like the storms that gather over Jotunheim. They are legendary, covering large swaths of the land, nigh half the realm in one all-destructive blanket." Thor nods, turning to lean his elbows against the counter and gazing out the window. "It is said that the Jotunn's magic is stronger during such storms. That if my father had gone against them then, that the outcome of the great war would have been much different."

He's not sure how much Loki is comfortable with him telling considering the dream, the torture at the hands of the Jotunn. It's all incredibly personal, but there's something about it that's been itching at the back of his mind since he'd woken up from it.

"These Jotunn, do they have something like the Tesseract? Little blue cube?" He asks, holding his hands up, thumb and index fingers on both hands together to make a rectangle shape with his fingers.

Thor seems thoughtful for a moment, stroking his hand over his stubbly chin, bright eyes distant. "They have nothing like the Tesseract, but the heart of Jotunheim…"

"What's that?" Tony questions impatiently as Thor trails off in deep thought.

"The Casket of Ancient Winters, but it is missing. It's believed to be lost with the destruction of the Bifrost," the Asgardian says, a hard set coming to his bright eyes as he looks back to the window, watching the ever pounding snow blanket the world outside. Blue eyes sharpening in scrutiny.

Missing his ass, he's sure recently Loki's had an up close and personal with this casket, and hasn't said a word to Thor about it. Hasn't said a fucking word to anyone.

Tony tries for roughly two seconds not to feel bitter, but he's said and done so much to gain Loki's trust and this is how he's repaid, in deceit. Then again, Loki was always considered the mythological god of lies and chaos. He'd probably sat back and ate up every part of Tony's bleeding heart.

How much of this has been a fucking lie?

Every damn moment of it, knowing his sour luck.

Tony's two seconds away from hunting down Loki and shaking him for information, or beating the shit out of him, when Jarvis announces the presence of Rogers on the lift and coming up. His eyes narrow at the large Asgardian but Thor simply waves him off, leaving the kitchen to stand by the windows like Loki had not too long ago. Looking tense and brooding as he searches out the clouds slowly darkening out the city below.

Thor's no idiot, he's probably thinking he's been tricked by his brother too, this one adding to a thousand year long list of beguilement and treachery by the chaos god.

Scrubbing his hands over his face, he waits for the super soldier and stews in his resentment, pulling an olive jar close with a soft scrape against the marble and chewing the greens whole. He's almost ready to make himself a drink when the lift doors open.

"Thor!" Steve's voice carries over before the man even comes into view from the elevator. Thor offers a tense smile that's more grim then welcoming, not offering anything further than a sharp hello before returning his pacing in front of the windows.

"Who invited you to the party?" Tony calls over bitterly, poking a toothpick like a pitchfork into an olive before pushing the jar away.

Steve simply shrugs, eyeing the clearly distressed thunder god a moment, but seemingly unaffected by the news that he's somehow back on Tony's shit list. Not that it's a surprise, no one seems to be taking Tony very seriously lately, maybe that's what happens when you lose your marbles.

Finally turning his attention to Tony, Steve shoves his hands into his slacks' pockets, hunching his shoulders. "You might want to have Jarvis turn on the news?"

Narrowing his eyes, Tony points the olive at the soldier before popping it into his mouth. "Why should I, when apparently I have you here to give me the rundown?"

Steve lets out an exasperated sigh, the kind of thing reserved for dealing with stubborn children and Tony Stark. He's got too much shit to deal with though and doesn't care to hear about it, getting to his feet before Rogers waves him back down. "The city's being evacuated; the president's called a state of emergency."

Thor does turn around at that, crossing the room in wide strides, tree trunk arms crossed over his chest. "Your land is being evacuated?"

"This storm, the temperature is down to about fifteen degrees outside and still going down. Rapidly. The snow's knocking out power all over the place, apparently the only reason we haven't noticed is-"

"The tower runs itself, yeah. I designed it." Tony waves him on, turning on the stool to face Rogers and rubbing his index finger over his lips. "Fury?"

Steve shakes his head with another sigh, raking his fingers though his thick hair. "Hasn't called yet," he says, like it's only a matter of time. Tony's on board with that thought.

If New York is evacuating then he's got to decide if he's leaving or staying.

Home screen advantage. His decision was made before he'd even realized he needed to make it. No, what he needs to do is talk with Loki. Now. Because he has a sinking feeling that his kindness has been rewarded with deceit that's burning like bitter acid in the back of his throat.

"Thor and Loki both confirm that this storm isn't from Earth, there's something otherworldly going on. You might not want to directly contact Fury, SHIELD's idea of handling situations aren't going to be much help right now up against a bit of weather. But if you want to contact the team you can," he orders, rising from his seat. "You can stay up here to make the calls, keep Thor company, eat, and do whatever it is you do."

He's halfway across the room before Steve catches up to the fact he's walking away. "Where are you going?"

"I'll be back, just make the fucking calls, Steve," he grunts, glancing across the room to Thor who only sends him a haunted look that Tony doesn't plan on taking the time to decipher.

Loki isn't asleep when he finds him, but sitting naked on the edge of Tony's bed. The god's inky black hair hangs into his face in wet stripes, dripping down to the marble floor at his feet,his hands hiding his face from view.

His intentions of coming in here and demanding answers from Loki don't die away, but he deflates a little. Snatching his dirty old MIT jacket from the back of his desk chair, he sits next to the chaos god, wrapping the warm fabric over his damp naked shoulders before pulling him against his chest.

Loki folds into the hold, resting his damp temple against Tony's collarbone, his ice-cold body naked and shivering now that it knows what warmth is again.

Wrapping his arms around the trembling deity, Tony counts his vertebrae with his fingertips, face pinched into a frown though, as he smoothes away Loki's shivers. His heart wants to think Loki regrets everything, part of him that hopes he's going to open up and spill everything, lay all his cards on the table. "Why did you not tell me what the Casket is? What this storm is?" he questions with no warmth in his voice as he slowly pulls Loki away from him by the shoulders. "Why didn't you tell me anything?"

Loki groans, a disgruntled sound, his face falling into an equally disgusted look, like sharing this information is worse than death. "I cannot, you could never understand."

Arching an eyebrow, Tony sneers. "Wouldn't understand? What the fuck is there not to understand? I'm pretty sure we're going under attack or some shit like that. Why didn't you tell me from the beginning? Was this your game? To play me and Thor's kindness so you can- can- I don't even fucking know what's going on!" he snaps, throwing his hand out in frustration and forking it though his messed to shit hair.

Loki's eyes widen in hurt for a second, the look so fast that Tony's not sure he's caught it before they sharpen to poison green daggers, shaking his head. "I cannot, they are coming for me."

"Asgard isn't going to lay a hand on you and you know it, this isn't about them, is it?" He pauses, a frown pulling at his mouth as Loki seems to close up, mouth closed tight and eyes distant.

"Asgard stands no chance against what comes for me. You, lowly mortal, stand no chance, my oaf of a brother is not much better off," Loki says, his voice still rough but he sounds strong and determined. Sitting up, he pulls the jacket tight around his shoulders before meeting Tony's eyes.

"Fine, fuck your brother, you're all high and mighty and a god, whatever. But I'm not going to pretend that I can't see whatever this is is a much bigger mess than you can control. What the fuck is going on? I can help. Thor can help!" he nearly yells.

"Leave the city, foolish human, run away. I do not need your or Thor's loyalty," Loki nearly spits, pulling away. Tony swears as Loki slips from his prying fingers and off the bed,following suit as the god pulls on fresh clothes from the bag supplied by Thor with sharp, angry movements. With each piece of leather and armor, Loki's building himself a wall between himself and the rest of the world. A physical representation of his mental shields.

Reaching out, Tony grabs his thin arm, fingers digging into leather and fabric, spinning him about and pinning him between the wall and his body. "What the fuck is going on? What are you not telling me?"

"Sir, there is a foreign disturbance draining the main reactor at an accelerated rate," Jarvis warns, his tone blank, but the way the lights overhead flicker with his warning. Tony grips Loki's arm tighter, the god's eyes wide and so very green.

It's panic. That's the only word that fits the look on Loki's face.

"What aren't you telling us?" he demands again, his voice breaking with his own barely contained fear and anger. giving Loki a rough shake when he shakes his head no, his hands tight enough on the deity's arms that he's got to be leaving bruises but he can't just pull a care out of his ass at the moment.

He's done so much to trust Loki, opening up in ways he's never done so before, why the fuck can't the god do the same?

The lights above them flicker again; he can hear Steve calling out in question from down the hall as the tower gives a low whine like a great dying animal before going dark.

In the glow of the arc reactor Loki looks pale, the sick smile that crawls onto his face at a total contrast to the unshed tears in his eyes. "It is too late now," he whispers, shaking his head slowly.