I think I have a Hurt!*anyone* kink. And I had far too much fun beating up Tony. Fair warning; I know very little about the original avengers, so this fiction will probably not be within cannon. I'll try not to offend too many people with my lack of knowledge.

(This fiction is for MaverikFlame, who fed my addiction, so I'm feeding hers.)

Come and see me again.

"Goddamn, Warbird, mo -NGHH!" Ironman grit his teeth to keep from biting off his tongue as the what-ever-the-fuck-it-was smacked him out of the air, sending him into the pavement ten stories below. It broke on impact, cracking just under his shoulders, ragged chunks of concrete jutting up around his body in crooked angles. He laid there for a moment, focusing on breathing, as his vision dimmed for a moment,the fight above him sounding far more distant then a few hundred feet. It was several long moments before the roaring in his ears died down, and his eyes focused. From the pounding in his skull as he rolled over – a pounding that transformed into stabbing pain behind his left eye as he stood- the creepy demented octopus-thingy had been about ten pounds of force from cracking his skull. It had managed a rather impressive concussion, though, from the feel of it.

Tony staggered sideways as ground shook, then tilted at an alarming angle as his head throbbed, blurring his vision. An unwitting vision of Pepper telling him off for flying while drunk prompted a completely inappropriate laugh.

Shit, I think it hit me harder than I thought... Tony staggered back upright, clutching at the side of a flipped car to keep himself upright, free hand cradling his helmet. The world pulsed twice, before the world sent something hurdling at his head at thirty miles an hour.

"Go... d-dammit," Tony rasped, retracting his faceplate to suck deep breaths of the chilly, dusty air. The cold served to wake him up a little, chasing away the threatening lethargy of unconsciousness.

Bad Tony, he chided himself absently, sleeping with a concussion... Pepper... Pepper will kill you... his laughter was a little bit wheezy, but the burning in his chest said fractured rip, not punctured lung, so he'd put that one to getting hit in the face twice in as many minutes. Grimacing, he pushed himself up just enough to lean against a chunk of what looked like an office building, and turned his attention to the person lying across his legs. Or he would have, had the movement not caused a wet crack in his chest, as the fracture turned into a true break, poking painfully at something inside him. White chased black, and Tony slumped back against the broken building, a battered red and gold streak against the broken grey landscape.

Fragments of voices, scratching at his ears between the comforting high pitched ringing. He went to drift back into the comfort of unconsciousness, but the nagging voice at the back of his mind that sounded like Pepper kept him from drifting off. It took more will then he was comfortable admitting to to force his eye lids apart, staring at the blurry patches of colour with detached interest. A streak of black interrupted by red, and capped with something yellow leaned in, smacking the larger red-and-blue-and-silver blur beside it.

"-think... he's –ake..." Tony blinked, brows drawing toward his nose as he frowned up at the black-red-yellow thing. What was it saying? The blue-red-silver blur leaned in closer, resolving into Captain America. His lips were moving, speaking- Tony was sure of that- but there wasn't any sound. He grunted, turning his face away from the hand that reached for it; it hesitated, then Steve repeated himself, slower this time. Tony frowned again, focusing hard on the words.

"-lright. Just don't sleep, okay? We'll take car-" He nodded distractedly to his words, passing out for a second time half way through his third nod.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

"Nrghhh." The sound didn't go away. Scrunching up his face, Tony turned his face from the noise, but it refused to do the polite thing and go away. In fact, the infuriating thing got louder. Goddammit. He opened his eyes, glaring up at the curtain separating his bed from the one beside him.

Hospital wing. He'd know the sterilized, irritatingly dry smell anywhere. Which made the beeping... blue eyes narrowed as he rolled his head across the pillow, glaring half heartedly at the machine beside his bed.

...the vitals monitor. There was another vitals monitor nearby, it's beeping quieter, the heart beat count slower. So, his roommate was sleeping, then. No help, there. Damn. Would have been nice to have someone explain things, instead of making him trust his patchy memory. He shifted, wincing as his head and chest throbbed in unison. A line of dulled fire down his chest, with fainter prickles of stitches, and a sharper pain in the back of his skull, and behind one eye. Moving carefully, Tony used his right hand to lift the neck of his gown, peering down at the angry red line bisected by black stitches.

Well, it was good to know he hadn't hallucinated the punctured lung, then. Because, if he was going to remember the pain, it might as bloody well be for something. Looked like it'd be a pretty impressive scar; it'd make a good story: the time he took a blow meant for Warbird from a weird purple fourteen story octopus thing.

Okay.

So maybe the story would need a bit of work. He bit back a hiss as he pushed himself up until he was reclining in the pillows. If he was very careful, he could just reach the curtain... his fingers brushed the pale green fabric just as the door opened. He dropped back into the pillows, trying to look like he'd been doing nothing as the Captain walked across the broad room to the corner where they'd tucked him and the other mystery patient.

Tony shifted again, letting out the pained grunt as he slid back down until he was on his back again. Immediately, the burning in his chest subsided. Steve arched a brow, glancing at the curtain, then back to Tony. He grinned, chuckling as he eyed the curtain again.

"Curious?" he tilted his head as he spoke, indicating the other bed. Tony snorted.

His pleasant tone meant it wasn't one of them. Which was good, but begged the question: Who, exactly, was important enough to land themselves a bed at the Avengers Mansion?

"Yes," Tony ground out hastily, when Steve gave him a concerned look. Looks like that meant longer in Medical then he liked.

The other Avenger hesitated a moment, studying him carefully. When Tony gave no signs that he was about to suddenly die, the blonde man shrugged, and reached out to tug the curtain out of the way.

Ignoring the burning in his chest, Tony pushed himself up on his elbow, casting a disbelieving look between his team mate, and the man on the bed.

"... What the hell is Loki doing here?"

...And apparently, I also really, really like Hurt!Loki. :3 bet you all saw that coming.

I'll update this one ASAP. Sorry everyone who's waiting for another story- they're still coming. Just... later.

Reviews feed my SOUL.