Hi everyone, long time, no see! Sorry about that. But at long last, here you are, Happy New Year and I hope you enjoy the next chapter!

Symbiotic Relationship: Chapter Eight

When Tony woke up, his first thought was that he was ridiculously comfortable. He resisted opening his eyes and instead luxuriated in the very rare feeling of being well rested and hangover free, breathing out a soft sigh and stretching lightly from his neck and shoulders all the way to his toes.

"Stark, if you kick me again, I'll throw you out of my window. And I live on the 6th floor, it's possible you would survive, but not without grievous injury."

All semblance of peace left Tony as he was harshly reminded of where he was and whose lap must currently be keeping his toes warm.

"Argh!" Tony gasped, lurching upright and staring at Loki with wide eyes. Loki stared back at him, one eyebrow raised and his lips pressed into a thin line.

"Good evening," he deadpanned.

"Evening?" Tony asked. They had left Avengers Tower that morning; surely he hadn't slept all day?

"Indeed."

To Tony's consternation, Loki turned his attention back to the book propped up on Tony's shins, which were resting flat across Loki's thighs, and proceeded to ignore him. Honestly the whole thing was disconcertingly domestic. Also, he kind of felt like resting his legs across a (former) super villain's lap was just asking for them to be hacked off. He cleared his throat.

"Why are my feet in your lap?"

"You put them there. Repeatedly," Loki replied, looking annoyed.

"Doubt it. I'm not in a habit of leaving my legs in dangerous places. I'm kind of attached to them."

"I assure you, despite my efforts to keep your various extremities off of me, you rather insistently kept replacing them. It is almost impressive how stubborn you are, even while unconscious."

"Nah, if you really didn't want them there, they wouldn't be there. You must just not mind them that much," Tony replied with a wink and a smirk. Tony Stark's go-to awkward situation diffuser: flirt.

"Short of breaking your knees, I was unable to prevent it."

"Do you have a foot fetish? Be honest."

"A foot fetish? " Loki asked incredulously. "You mortals are ridiculous. Appreciating features naturally found on a body is hardly a fetish. No, Stark, my fetishes tend much darker," he said with a smirk.

Tony's mind went hazy for a moment, trying to imagine exactly what constituted a dark fetish for a god. Nope, better not even go there. He cleared his throat again and broke eye contact, finding the hem of his shirt interesting all of a sudden.

"Right, well, that's…certainly interesting. Nice little tidbit. Thanks for sharing."

Loki only smiled in reply, eyes falling back to his book.

"So, find anything helpful yet?" Tony asked, gesturing to the piles of ancient books on the table.

Loki sighed and looked back up at him. "Not as of yet. This is not going to be an instantaneous process."

"You haven't found a single thing? I've been knocked out all damn day and you didn't find anything?"

"You haven't been out 'all damn day,' you slept for two hours. And I spent half of that time defending myself. You kick like a mule when you sleep."

"If it's already evening, how was I only asleep two hours?"

"I believe you call it a time change."

It took an embarrassingly long 10 seconds for Tony's brain to catch up. "Your apartment isn't in New York."

"It is not. We are in Andorra. Specifically, Andorra La Vella."

"Oh of course. You would have a villainous lair in tiniest country in the world."

"There are plenty that are smaller, and I did not choose it for its size."

"Why did you, then?"

"I find that I am generally unharassed with questions here," Loki said, glaring pointedly at him.

"Okay, point taken. Hermit."

When Loki made no reply, Tony took a moment to observe Loki's apartment. All in all, it was less flashy than he would have imagined. Leather couch, wood floors, dark metal and granite, all high quality enough, but not ostentatious. It certainly lacked the dramatic flair that Loki's battle regalia held. They were in the living room, which held no television that Tony could see, the space generally being dominated by the couch they were on and a huge bookcase on the back wall. He was relieved, however, to at least see a laptop resting on an end table. Not completely cut off from the world, then.

The kitchen was open to the living room via a half-wall with a bar overlooking it, and actually looked as though it got some use. Picturing Loki cooking was almost enough to make Tony laugh, but he restrained himself.

There were two doors down a short hallway, both closed, leading to what Tony assumed would be a bathroom and bedroom. In the opposite direction was a window, showcasing what Tony expected would be a view of Andorra, if he had been close enough to look out of it.

He gently started to pull his legs away, intent on going to see for himself where they were, when Loki's hand latched onto his ankle.

"What are you doing?"

"I just wanted to look out the window. Take in the sights. I've never been to Andorra before."

"Look later," Loki scoffed at him, "I'm trying to concentrate, I don't need a headache right now." He tightened his grip on Tony's ankle.

"I'm sure you can survive for a minute. I just want to see for myself where I am."

"No. Unnecessary."

"Loki, let go of me. Now," Tony demanded. He yanked his leg back again as hard as he could, but it had no effect whatsoever. Loki's grip remained steady and bruising, and he looked as though he hadn't even noticed Tony's attempts to pull free.

This was bad. He was starting to get the faintest stirrings of panic in his chest. Pathetic as it was, ever since Afghanistan, he had become so much more sensitive to feeling trapped. Captured. Because captured led to torture, and torture led to giant holes in his chest and lots of people dying and Yinsen and pain. He jerked his leg harder, till it felt like he might dislocate it, but it had no effect. Feeling desperate, he kicked out with his other leg, aiming for Loki's head.

"Stark!" Loki shouted in surprise, firmly catching Tony's other ankle out of self-preservation.

He didn't even realize it was happening until he heard his breaths leaving him in shortened gasps. Not here, not now, he really couldn't do this here…logically, he knew he was in Loki's apartment. He knew Loki was just trying to avoid a headache, and probably didn't even realize how hard he was holding Tony. He was actually fairly certain that he knew Loki had no plans to torture or maim him. But getting that message from the logical side of his brain to the reactionary, instinctual, PTSD-ridden part of his brain just didn't seem possible.

He was back in the caves, head underwater. He was waking up with a car battery attached to him. Starving. Freezing. Getting the shit kicked out of him. Watching Yinsen run ahead of him…gunfire and smoke and screaming.

He snapped out of the caves and back to the present when he heard his name called out in a familiar voice that certainly hadn't been in the caves with him, and he was met with green eyes, hovering only a foot or so away from his own. Gradually, the eyes became and entire face, which connected to an entire body, whose hands were currently resting on either side of Tony's face.

"Stark… can you hear me again? Stark, do you know where you are?" If Tony didn't know any better, he would call Loki's tone 'concerned,' but that would be ridiculous. He was most likely just worried that he broke the Avenger he had out on loan, and that Big Brother and company would be holding him very much accountable.

"Yeah. I'm fine. I'm okay…sorry," he added sheepishly. He felt the acute sting of embarrassment and lowered his gaze. He even hated for Pepper to see this side of him, much less for Loki to bare witness. It was humiliating.

Loki dropped one hand to the side of his neck and gently pushed two fingers just below his jaw.

"Your pulse is still elevated," he noted. He felt rather than saw Loki give him a full once over. "Your hands are shaking as well."

Tony felt too stupid to answer, instead keeping his eyes down and clasping his hands together to try and stop the tremors.

Loki's hand moved back up from his neck to his face again, and gently he started to stroke Tony's temples with his thumbs. Tony sighed as the panic and humiliation gradually gave way to comfort and safety and warmth. His breathing was even starting to slow until he noticed the faint green tint of magic around his temples in his peripheral vision.

"What are you doing?" He asked, trying to fight off the panic he could feel creeping in again. "Please tell me you aren't mind-controlling me to keep me from freaking out, because that will really ensure that I freak out! Again!"

Loki stilled his hands and Tony saw the green fade away. He felt appallingly worse off once it was gone and immediately regretted telling Loki off for it. Loki, however, just gave him a faint, tiny smile.

"Nothing of the sort. It's a spell my mother used to do for me, when I was distressed. It doesn't alter your thoughts; it merely surrounds one with the feeling of security and comfort, like a bright, hot fire on a cold, dark night. I apologize if I overstepped bounds by performing it on you. And," Loki looked genuinely regretful, "I apologize for triggering ill memories. I know the pain that can be found within them. It was not my intent to do so, I was absorbed in the task at hand and did not take into consideration what my actions would imply."

"It's fine. I overreacted," Tony mumbled, feeling miserable again.

"How do you fare now?"

"Shitty."

"Eloquent. Allow me to continue?" Loki asked, brushing his thumbs across Tony's temples just once, waiting for a reply.

Tony nodded slowly, relieved that Loki had offered. It really had been a soothing feeling until the glow of his magic had freaked out Tony.

Loki began gently brushing his thumbs up and down his temples again, and once again, Tony felt like someone was wrapping him up in a thick, soft blanket. He tried to imagine what Loki's mom must be like, to be able to bring that kind of comfort to someone so volatile and troubled. One hell of a lady, probably.

Loki shifted his weight slightly and Tony only then realized how close they were sitting. Tony had one leg hanging off the edge of the couch and the other leg partially wedged between the cushions of the couch back and seat, and Loki was sitting knelt between them, as far forward as possible. Tony had been so out of it during his panic attack that he hadn't even realized either of them had moved.

He felt vaguely embarrassed by the situation, but not enough to move away. Loki really was working magic on him, he hadn't felt this relaxed and secure since before Afghanistan. It was such an amazing relief he wasn't entirely sure he could even process it. Years of therapy and pills had done squat for him, but 3 minutes of a temple massage from the god of mischief had him breathing again. Go figure.

His head seemed to tip forward of its own accord, his forehead landing lightly on Loki's shoulder. Loki's hands moved with him him, thumbs continuing their path, and Tony thought he felt a slight rumbling chuckle, but the god made no other comment on his move.

Loki had been quite surprised when the mortal had allowed him to resume the spell. He had been even more surprised to feel Stark's head come to rest on his shoulder, essentially dropping all defenses. It had been a very long time since someone had shown enough trust in him to actually lower their guard, even to rely on him for something such as this. It was making the most ridiculous warmth course through him, and he was shocked to find he had no desire to betray the foolish man's trust.

He typically resented casual contact with anyone, but this was actually drawing him in rather than repulsing him. He wasn't sure if it was a side effect of the spell or just a side effect of Stark himself, but Loki was finding it rather pleasant. Even though Stark should be the only one feeling the benefits of this spell, Loki felt himself soothed as well.

They sat like that for what felt like a long time, until Tony finally leaned back a bit and met Loki's eyes. "So, uh, thanks for that. I think I'm okay now. That's seriously some great magic though, I mean shit, you've done what about 30 therapists and $100,000 couldn't…" he trailed off, the faintest blush coloring his cheeks.

"It was the least I could do, after my actions."

"You really didn't do anything, I just have, um, 'triggers' I guess is what they're called."

"As do I, as you have already discovered. Suffice to say we both have enough unpleasantness in our respective histories to last a lifetime. I will endeavor to not 'trigger' yours again."

"Well, great, thanks. Me too."

Stark cleared his throat and looked away from him. At somepoint Loki had dropped his hands from the mortal's face, and now had one hand resting gently on Stark's wrist, maintaining the required contact. Making an impulsive decision he stood up, tugging very lightly on Stark.

"Come along, if you're feeling better."

"Come along to where, exactly?"

"You wanted to see Andorra and it's nearly suppertime. Two birds, one stone, I believe is the ridiculous Midgardian turn of phrase."

"Oh!" Tony said, perking up considerably. He stood and grinned at Loki. "In that case, lead the way!"

Loki smiled back at him, surprised by the simple fact that he wanted to show Stark around the city, to dine with him. He knew logically that they shouldn't waste time with something with as unimportant as this, not while they had the much larger issue of breaking the curse looming over them, but Loki found that he just couldn't bring himself to care. Especially with Stark smiling at him, as though he was actually looking forward to this as well. Pushing aside his guilt at diverting their focus for a few hours, he led them out of his apartment and onto the snowy streets.

Andorra la Vella, Tony decided, was like a village from a fairytale. Nestled in between mountains with twinkly stars overhead that you could actually see (not like in New York City, where the city lights drowned out the stars) and snow covered, ancient churches, and the soft, welcoming orange glow coming from restaurants and shops…Tony sighed happily. People walked the streets, bundled up from the chill, but not with the same urgency of New York. He had the impression that people were more content here, more appreciative of life. Took time to soak it all in.

He then considered the man…god…walking next to him. As soon as they had exited the apartment, Loki had shifted his grip from Tony's wrist to his hand, most likely because two men holding hands looked much more natural than one man dragging another around by the wrist.

Loki looked completely at ease guiding them along, yet somehow, he didn't fit here. He didn't fit any better in New York, either. And from what Tony had learned from Thor, and more recently from Loki himself, he didn't fit in Asgard, his own home. The thought made Tony inexplicably sad, and he tightened his hand around Loki's by a fraction.

Loki looked down at him, curious, but didn't question him or shake his hand free. Instead, he began pointing out various buildings and streets to Tony, weaving stories of this place's history as they walked to whatever restaurant Loki had in mind.

For a little while, Tony finally forgot. Forgot about the scary-as-shit magic bond that he had blindsided him, forgot about the past, forgot about New York and all of the responsibilities that went along with that place. He let the past fall to the back of his mind, and instead enjoyed his present.