A/N: I have a cousin, who is really more like a brother to me, who was running for state representative where I live. He ran once before and lost. I and a bunch of my family have been working our asses off to help him, since he doesn't have much money. I mentioned before that I walked in a parade or two- that was for him. Today was primary day. A bunch of us met up at a big house on a lake and hung out waiting for the results.

He lost.

I didn't give him a hug goodbye at the end of the night because I didn't want to start crying on him.

Not the same as someone dying, I know. But I'm depressed. So now you have something of an idea from what depths of hell this came. It's not really edited, because I have to get up at six tomorrow morning to babysit. Now you all get to be depressed with me.

"Anthony."

The name was softly spoken in that English accent that had thrown him for a loop the first time he'd spoken to the quiet kid in the back of the room that he'd always assumed was shy.

Tony ignored it, choosing instead to take another long swig from the half-empty bottle of scotch in his hand. It wasn't his first of the night.

"Hi, I'm Tony. You new around here?"

The beautiful guy with lush black hair, sharp green eyes, pale skin, and legs that went on for miles just scoffed. "Obviously."

"Loki, you coming?"

The question had come from Natasha Romanoff, someone Tony had learned pretty quickly to stay clear of unless he was in seriously deep shit, who was calling from the classroom doorway.

Loki, as he could only assume the gorgeous man was called, called over his shoulder casually, "Be there in a moment, dear." He gave Tony a brief once over, a hint of a smirk curling up the corner of his mouth.

"Like what you see?" Tony said boldly. He was pretty sure he hadn't been entirely sober for that conversation.

Loki's smirk became more pronounced. "Tony is a child's name. I don't flirt with children." With that clear dismissal, he'd turned on his heel and walked out of the room.

Tony had been fairly outraged at the time.

"You were such a dick," he told his boyfriend, mumbling it into the bottle.

Loki didn't say anything.

"My name is Tony, and so help me god you will use it if we're about to have sex."

Loki's laughter had been bright and clear, unconcerned and unburdened. Tony wished it could have stayed that way forever. "I think you're rather unclear on the rules of this engagement, Anthony." His hand slipped down and flattened over Tony's tented jeans, making him gasp. "I am the one holding all the cards, after all."

The bottle was empty now. Tony didn't actually remember drinking the rest of it. That was a good thing, though. If he couldn't remember five minutes ago, then surely a few more drinks would make the rest of it go away.

"Hey, Lokes, will you grab me that bottle?"

Loki didn't say anything. Loki hadn't approved of his drinking habits.

"Get off of me; you smell like a brewery," Loki snapped at him one night when Tony had come to crash on his couch. It was closer to where he'd ended up getting wasted.

"Feel like one too," Tony mumbled, giggling at his own bad joke before suddenly gagging.

Loki had sighed heavily and then immediately steered him towards the bathroom.

Tony didn't remember all of that night. He knew that Loki had been furious with him for a while after, and that all his words that night had been harsh and unforgiving. He didn't remember the exact words, but he did remember that Loki's hands hadn't matched up with what was coming out of his lips. While he swore to throw Tony out to the curb, his fingers had gently carded through his slightly too long hair the whole time he threw up, rubbing soothingly up and down his back.

It took almost a full week of Loki's silent treatment after that for Tony to snap and corner him one day, asking what the fucking hell he had to do to be forgiven. That was the first time he had seen tears in those perfect green eyes as Loki nearly broke down in the hall. It had shocked him so much that he had let the taller man slip away without another word.

Loki didn't help him get the bottle, so Tony had to do it himself. It was quite the ordeal that ended up with one of his more expensive bottles of scotch broken and him sitting in puddle on the floor, soaking his pants.

He had another full bottle in his hands though, so it was all good.

"Sorry, Lokes," he apologised, not willing to accept the fact that his partner wouldn't answer. "Know I promised to quit. And I did. Was. Showed you the fucking six months sober chip and everything. Just. . . everything's different now, you know?"

Loki didn't say anything. But Tony knew that he understood.

"I am not going to a fucking AA meeting, alright?"

"Yes, you are. This isn't a discussion." Loki had been standing in the kitchen, scrubbing dishes with all the force Tony imagined he would rather be using to strangle him. He had an apron over his bare chest and pajama pants, and his hair was an absolute disaster, flying everywhere and coming out of its ponytail. He looked fucking beautiful.

"You're right; it ain't," Tony snapped. "'Cause I ain't going." He normally didn't say "ain't". He generally agreed with Loki that it wasn't a fucking word, but he knew that it bothered the taller man more than it bothered him.

This time, though, Loki just clenched his jaw and ignored it. "You have a problem, Tony, and I can't fix it." Probably took more than a little pride swallowing to get that one out. Loki was usually capable of fixing anything people related. He had a silver tongue and, despite normally being an asshole, was one of the best negotiators or diplomats Tony had ever seen. "So you're going."

"Oh, I have a problem?" Tony threw back at him. "Not my fault you were raised in a fucking cult and can't handle a drink."

The sound of shattering glass had filled the entire room.

"Shouldn't have done that," Tony murmured to the floor. Loki could hear him though, always seemed to. "I shouldn't have thrown that in your face. You were right about the drinking. You always seemed to be right about everything."

Loki didn't say anything. No snarky brushoff, no heartfelt kiss. Tony knew that he would have said something, if he'd been able.

"Loki, talk to me. What's wrong?"

They were standing just through the doorway in Tony's apartment, Loki trembling uncontrollably, looking utterly lost. He was wet from the rain and hadn't grabbed a coat or an umbrella, but he wouldn't come any further inside. He was just standing there, green eyes fogged over and locked on the wooden floor on which he was slowly creating a puddle.

"They kicked me out," he finally whispered, voice barely audible.

"What? Who?" Not school. Loki was brilliant. He could have gotten into Harvard or Yale or Oxford. Tony hadn't understood what had brought him to the tiny little community college where they both went. Tony was there because his dad had drunk away all their money. Loki was rich.

"My parents." He barely managed to get the words out before his legs gave out and he just sunk to the ground. "They're religious. Fundamental Baptists." He breathed a mirthless laugh as Tony sank down next to him, nervously wrapping his arms around his drenched figure. "Not that it matters. Tried so hard to believe it. Used to stay up at night crying out to their god. Thought I was one of them, but I just. . . it wasn't right. Got really good at pretending though.

"Didn't help that I liked boys. I could pretend I didn't though. Girls are nice too. Got lucky, I guess. Bisexual is easier to cover up than gay. Lied to them for so long. Almost went to a fucking Bible college just to get out of the damn house. Eventually figured staying there was worth it to go to a community college. But then. . . you changed everything." Loki was gazing at him with wide, open eyes, like he was seeing him for the first time. "They found out," he whispered. "I got careless, and they. . . they know I'm sleeping with you. Threw me out." He choked again.

"Never their son to begin with. Never thought it mattered. They always said it didn't matter." He whispered the words over and over and over again. Neither of them had slept that night.

"Got better though," Tony told him. "You moved in with me after that. Even started talking to your mom again, just a little. I know you missed the rest of your family, you'd always been close with them in a way, but you handled it so well. You lost everything."

He waited for the response.

"Not everything. I had you."

It came, but Loki wasn't the one who said it. Not really. The Loki in his head wasn't the same as the one to whom he was talking.

Loki didn't say anything. Tony took another long swig. He didn't want to remember why.

Loki'd just been laying there, so cold and still. It wasn't right. Loki never sat still. Not when his fucking cultist parents weren't dragging him to church to call him an abomination, anyway.

His family had been so damn cheery.

"It's all in god's hands."

"It's his will."

"We'll celebrate his life."

"It must be for the best in the end; god only does what's best."

"Maybe the lord'll use this to bring the Stark boy to him." That one was quieter, but still there.

Tony had wanted to kill them all; murder them, with his bare hands.

Where were they when Loki had needed them? On the nights when he would come home from his late nights serving drinks at a bar, and he was fucking exhausted? Where were they when he would get off of the phone crying because someone he had loved like a brother had just told him he deserved to go to hell? Where were they when the phone call had come, telling him that Loki was in the hospital?

He'd said as much to Steve and Tasha. They just looked at him with those big eyes, full of pity. He hated that look. Had quite enough of it back when his mom had died, and then again with Jarvis, and then yet again when his dad had died. Hadn't wanted it ever. With his dad, he'd pretty much been fucking celebrating.

He hadn't wanted it then, and he didn't want it now.

"Did I ever tell you why I hated being called Anthony so much? Mom used to call me that. I think you knew. Told you, didn't I?"

Loki didn't say anything. He couldn't.

Loki had gone silent for a long time. "Do you want me to call you Tony?"

And he would have, too. Tony knew it.

That's why he shook his head. "Nah. Just thought you should know why I was such an ass about it at first."

Tony looked around and slowly stumbled to his feet. For a moment, he saw Loki, sitting there at the counter, looking at him with those green eyes full of love. Then he was gone.

It hit him with the force of a semi-truck.

He was gone.

Loki didn't say anything.

He never would again.

The heart machine thing was beeping constantly. Tony had always found that annoying in movies. Now it was physical evidence that the man he loved was still alive; he clung to the sound like a drowning man.

He was told that others had come to visit. Steve told him that he'd gone off on Loki's parents and almost needed to be sedated. Tasha added that Loki's asshole brother hadn't stayed more than two minutes because Tony actually growled at him. Tony didn't remember any of it.

He did remember the moment the heart monitor picked up its pace. He remember Loki opening his eyes, a familiar green light peering out of his weary pale face.

"Anthony?"

"Yeah, Lokes, I'm here," he'd promised.

Loki had smiled and closed his eyes.

Tony watched him there for a moment, unbelievably happy. He'd woken; that meant he was going to be okay!

The beeping turned into one continuous sound.

Tony didn't remember, but his friends said that he screamed.

The wind was strong on the roof of his apartment complex, cold and wild. Loki had loved the roof, Tony remembered. He dropped the bottle of scotch first; it smashed on the pavement.

"That was for you, sweetheart."

Loki hated endearments, but sweetheart was one he endured. He said that he used it to refer to kids. Used to talk about adopting sometimes; Loki loved kids.

Tony would have given him the world.

Instead, the world took him.

"I know you wouldn't approve of this," Tony told the sky, standing on the ledge unsteadily, "but you were always the one who said that once you were dead, you were dead. Whether or not there was an afterlife, you found it unlikely that people in hell would get a chance to look at their loved ones." He frowned for a moment. "Pretty sure you had something about heaven too, but I don't remember it. Suppose it doesn't matter. I think we both know the only place I'm going is down."

The street was a long way away; it was making him dizzy. Tony looked up instead.

"Anthony?"

Loki's voice, his last words, drifted towards him on the wind. Tony almost imagined he could see them, catch them, maybe.

"I love you, Loki," he whispered to the stars.

Tony used to say that Loki was an angel.

Loki used to laugh and say that maybe he was Tony's angel.

After all, Loki did always catch him when he fell.