Ch4- Boulevard of Broken Dreams

Loki woke up with a strange sensation that morning, his eyes slowly blinking closed and open in the dark room. A small stream of light came in through a thinner curtain in the room. He stood up gingerly, kinks unraveling in his back as he finally made it up to standing on his own two feet and was aware even in his groggy state that this was morning was far different from any he had in ages. He woke up and wasn't afraid. He didn't have to fear his family. Or torture. Or humiliation amongst people he had once thought friends. He didn't feel the need to run, hide, curl up and die. And then he remembered last night.

Tony Stark knew his secret. He had witnessed it firsthand. The enemy had all the information he needed to rip Loki apart piece by piece. To grind him into dust and fading memories. Stark had the power to do that. It terrified Loki how much he just wasn't scared of that. But right now he was more concerned about how to quell the ache of hunger that was growing in the pit of his stomach. Maybe a banana. Bananas were good in terms of those strange Midgardian fruits. He noticed a dresser drawer casually hanging open, and opened it to fully see its contents. There was a green sweater set next to a pair of near black jeans that when he slid them on, he noticed were quite tight on him. In his groggy, unkempt state, he shuffled out of the bedroom, but he realized soon that he had no clue where he was going. Seriously, this place should have maps on the wall or something. He walked for what felt like ages before ending up in what he could assume was the kitchen from the sight of Tony eating a chocolate donut and the familiar bar counter.

"Good morning, sunshine!" Tony cried out, grinning cockily. "How goes the sleeping to noon?" Loki chuckled a little. That man was a pain in the ass and he knew. He loved it. He lived it up every second he could. "Wish I could hang out but the world isn't just going get rid of the chaos itself." Loki looked at him skeptically. "Okay fine… There's a daytime gala I have to attend. Gonna get waaas-ted!"

The green eyed god shook his head and rolled his eyes. Tony was impossible. But then a realization occurred to the smaller man. "You aren't going to cause any trouble, right tall, pale, and devious?"

"I can't guarantee that, Stark." He shot Tony the most troublesome grin he could create. Tony hesitated for a moment before throwing his company a small electric device, which the man looked at curiously.

"What is this contraption?" he eyed Tony warily.

"It's called a StarkPod. It's like an IPod but more…me." Loki continued to stare at him blankly "Just try it out. It's pretty awesome. But be careful, if you break it, you die."

With that, Tony left for the party. He had worn a proper suit and tie like the good businessman persona he put on would, and had walked in already expecting the worse. After attending so many of these, it had become routine. Talk to the people who looked. Don't cuss people out. Submit the charity name to memory and pretend like it's really important, especially if the word 'child' was in there. Get drunk so the room, the party, the everything, would look as fake as it felt. He had always made sure to regulate the alcohol though, to keep him at a level of acting as intelligent as they made him out to be. Most of the night, the drunken silliness would be subdued. He would only go crazy after everyone else did. Then he went fucking insane. Then he called a cab and tried to remain conscious and un-drooling for the ride home. It was the same every time, and it was exhausting. But he had to do it, since, like it or not, he was a business man. The only difference was that this gala was twice as long as most (approximately 8 hours tonight), meaning he had to wait twice as long to numb the boring.

About 3 hours in, Tony considered his alcohol level to be at about 18%. He had been swept into a conversation with an old, balding man who was the director of something. The man considered Tony Stark's young face to be a close friend of his. But all he did was make Tony's fingers itch more for a bottle. But he stuck to his rules, and because of that, Tony declared himself due for a break. He made an excuse of caring for a pet and slipped away. Time to see how it had fared leaving the god of mischief alone in his home.

Loki found himself innately bored, locked away in Stark towers. There were worse options (far, far worse…), but as it was, he wanted to keep himself entertained. And without someone to pester and match wits with, it seemed a bit emptier. He had already used his slowly returning magic to hide all the spoons throughout the house, dooming one to lack of ice cream, the chairs were already off centered, and he felt a bit done with the trivial pranking he was able to do with his limited magic supply, and lay on a red couch bored out of his mind. All the interesting things were locked up in that lab of Stark's, and all the technology he had access to, he did not know how to use.

His hand reached to his pocket and pulled out the small device that Tony had given him before he left. He had a fairly understandable idea of how it worked, but was still yet to know its purpose. Strange combinations of words littered the screen. He had no clue what in the world Aerosmiths or Van Halens were, nor was he strongly intent on finding out. But, it would be a while yet until Tony returned and he needed something to amuse himself with. So he took the thing and put the headset on his ears, psyching himself for whatever this experience could be.

No w Loki had heard music before. He had heard classical streams flow in many different keys from multiple regal looking instruments, slow and slurring people clinging onto each with a desperate longing Loki was yet to understand, but still knew he wanted. Then there were the fast bouncy tunes that were intended for real proper dancing, in which he had been trained as a child. He remembered the culture festival that had occurred when he would have been a Midgardian fifteen (during the bangs-are-so-long-the-eyes-don't-seem-to-exist phase) and stood in a corner listening and observing instead of dancing with the others.

The culture fest occurred often enough for Asgardians to mark the date on their calendars and become excited. Music was played from all the different realms and people danced, sung, and got very drunk, all together becoming more "cultured." It was created to allow people to bond, to create tolerance, and to show that no matter how different these people seemed from other planets seemed, they were all tied through the beauty that was music. That all cultures, no matter how far away, couldn't function without music. Jotun music was not played

A song from Midgard, more specifically from a country of theirs called Russia, called Hopak played, and when the song finished, the crowd cheered louder than they had all night. Loki had been enthralled by the fancy, happy, peppy music. He watched the fingers of different instruments running rapidly around the keys like it was their sole purpose in life, and quickly he became envious of these people's ability to play such beautiful music. Within in a few seconds, he was lost in the sound.

The sounds that came from this infernal device were not music. They were just… screeching noises. He shuddered, flinging the device to the ground, shattering the glass screen slightly. One thing could easily be said. Some mortals had no taste in music.

"I take it you are not a fan of Master Stark's music?" Seeing that he was already in a particularly venomous state, it's a good thing his powers were weakened or Stark Tower would have been done for. The machine's voice had come out from nowhere, and he had to remind himself that it was, in fact, just a machine. He couldn't help but be a bit anxious, considering there was probably not on a person this planet, let alone in this city, that wouldn't shoot him dead the second they saw him. And now, in this state, he would have to succumb to it, if such an event were to occur. For some reason, though, he seemed to be safe in this place, in the eye of the storm. All of this, it was completely wrong, this false (?) sense of security. This couch he laid on now, it was highly likely something similar to it had been lit on fire by him truly. That window, that one over there, had been shattered once by a body, the very one, quite strangely, that seemed to show him a bit of humility.

"Yes, I do find it to be rather atrocious…" he said, his words twisted in a grimace. He couldn't stand what had been playing and that seemed to have gotten him into a bit of a foul mood. Then again, it could probably just be called a mood, most every mood of his tended to be foul. Those lyrics had been absolutely perturbing compared to the classical music he had grown up with, and those rock stars had all been so self-glorified, talking about their own splendor, wealth, and brilliance. Not unlike one Anthony Stark, he thought. But for some reason, with Tony, it didn't seem to bother him as much. Maybe because the man's self-praise was well-earned. Speaking of the cocky bastard, how long did he intend to be away for? Things were getting quite dull without someone to unleash banter on, and now he had new ammunition, about the horrid music the man seemed to worship. What kind of event took this long anyway? It had been a whole…oh, three hours, Loki thought, glancing at a digital clock, and accidentally catching his reflection. Wow, what a sorry sight he was, how worse for wear he appeared, with circles under his eyes so dark they looked like they had been dragged through a tar pit twice over.

"Would you care for me to create a device for you personally, Mister Laufeyson?" The voice overhead of the JARVIS device came again and it was still as baffling as the first time. This was probably the reason he didn't too upset over his proper name.

"That would be acceptable. Anything but that drivel, please." He declared, nodding curtly, even though there was no one there to see him. Why couldn't Stark hurry up and get back home. Was this what this was now, Loki's home? He secretly hoped so, what a relief that would be.

"Alright, sir, there will be a simple brain scan to generate music that would satisfy your needs. The procedure will be painless and within five minutes, all sources will have been swept and the device compiled."

"I knew Tony wasn't as clever as he made out, but to think this wouldn't be blatantly obvious?"

"What are you referencing, sir" the system said, sounding legitimately confused.

"The scientist man has a new test subject. I'm guessing he asked you to keep these scan on record for his perusal, correct."

"Yes."

"That's the what I'm referring to. So he wants to study how I'm built, that man is always looking for a new project. That's the whole purpose of this brain scan, is to see what my mind is like. So I'm a test subject? That shouldn't be an issue as long as Stark doesn't go blabbing the details. And it wouldn't be so bad to have some good music to listen to; heavens know it has been long enough. Go ahead with your scan."

True to the AI's guarantee, his device had been ready in the five minute time period, ready for perusal. He still used Stark's headphones, but plugged them into his new device. He needed to think of a clever name for this piece of equipment that supposedly had his perfect choice in music. It needed the best name, if only to spite Stark. And it was all true; the music on it was absolutely wonderful, albeit his not being familiar with its style.

Halfway through analyzing a song entitled Spaceman, he realized for the first time that, by the human standard he was more than likely clinically depressed. Some of those days, in those cells, he had been absolutely positive that he would be better off dead. Inside dark walls, nothing to entertain himself with, the only thing to do, the only place to go, was the inside of his brain, where there was nothing but a labyrinth of suffering, of longing for acceptance he knew he would never get, the need for a place to belong that he would never have. He didn't know what had kept him from simply offing himself, perhaps pride. He didn't want those Asgardians with their noses in the air to think they were right, that he was nothing but a monster that was inferior to them. And he didn't think he would ever get out, not with the way they had so relentlessly abused him. The nightmare felt like it would fade, especially since he had technically never finished his sentence. They could come down from the 'heavens' and drag him right back inside those dark, damp walls and no one would think twice of it. No one had ever really cared about him, right. It had all been a simple act they had played. He had always been a shadow, he had always been insignificant.

For a moment a preposterous thought occurred to him. No, they were enemies, well technically. He had only been here a few days anyways, and there was absolutely no chance it was possible. Somewhere, though, in that tiny little part of his mind that still had hope, hidden in a lost corner, there was a small voice. Would Tony Stark care if they came and dragged me away? He lowered his head onto a table. Bloody hell, why was he so tired lately?

Tony returned home to find that at least nothing had been destroyed, even though someone had obviously kept himself busy during the absence, and Tony couldn't help but chuckle to himself. It wasn't too hard to find his houseguest, who looked particularly disheveled. Loki was absolutely unconscious, his head rested on a table while his legs curled up a bit back on the chair that he was technically sitting on, and there was no way that position was comfortable. His houseguest looked deceptively angelic in his sleeping state, like his skin would be so soft, and his features so delicate, his figure so childlike without all the blockades built up around it. For the first time, Tony wondered what exactly had happened to have change Loki so much. What hell, exactly, had he been through to have to build up such a cold façade around everyone? Tony was no stranger to false personas, as he had been through enough of them in his lifetime. He had played quite a lot of the game of being funny and snarky when things were uncomfortable, because he wouldn't ever let anyone believe for a damned second that a man like him could be scared.

How much angst, how much sadness, how much unbridled fear was trapped and caged in that immortal heart? How much suffering had that man had to deal with? Too much to ever admit, he assumed. Geez, could Tony ever relate. He allowed this strange smile that had created itself on his face to falter when he saw his music player on the ground, with a cracked screen. He given one rule and… Oh friggin well. The repairs were simple and unfortunately not everyone had taste. Looking closer though, Loki did indeed have headphones, and as Tony followed a path, he found it led to a personalized player, one of the new systems he had been working on. Which meant JARVIS had gotten the scans. Good, he thought, slightly deviously.

Tony leaned over curiously, and picked up a headphone to see what exactly the moody, snarky man's taste and he almost couldn't contain a laugh at the lyrics that coincidentally were playing. "Cuz Andy, You're a Star In nobody's eyes but mine…"

Before he could hear any further, his phone vibrated in his pocket, and he pulled it out to see a frantic text from Pepper, asking where he had gone because she wasn't going to be able to cover for his antics much longer tonight. That was the entire break he got tonight? He didn't want to go back and deal with those insufferable people again. He wasn't even in the mood for getting drunk and having what the Brits would call a"damn good shag." He would much rather stay here where at least his intelligence level could be matched but business called. He took a moment to lay a blanket on Loki's twisted frame and pivoted, walking right back out the door and into dullness. If he was going to spend any more time with these people after his money, he was going to need a lot more to drink. All he wanted for the cab ride and the rest of the night was to be right back, and a certain black haired man never seemed to want to leave his mind.

Sorry its been ages, far far too long because I love this story. So I guess to say THANK YOU SO MUCH this chapter ended up being ridiculously long for what I usually write so I hoped you all liked it and seriously thanks so much because I literally never have had so many story alerts or favorites on one thing. Chapters should come at a much normaller pace now (I say, forgetting about finals. But seriously, no more spells like there have been).

Ps… It is so hard to focus on frostiron when Johnlock videos KEEP PLAYING. The chaos of two OTPs. But geez I love frostiron. My friend and I get into debates about which of our avengers pairings in better… Okay, ramblings done. Well, till next time :)