- Chapter 16: Codependency is a Bitch, and the Unsaid Word -

He had to do something. He was not nearly as drunk as he felt he should be, and he needed a distraction, from the adrenalin rush and sequential fall, from the ache in his chest that had little to do with his reactor recharging. Loki was dying, that much was clear. He was back in Asgard, or at least Tony hoped he had made it there. That little bit of not being able to heal himself while on Earth went unsaid, but Tony knew. By now, he knew. He knew so much about the god. He knew that the god cared far too much about what others thought of him. He knew how deep that need to be recognized as someone of worth ran, and he shared that with the god. He knew that Loki's kisses came few and far between, but when they met… those were special moments. They were the times when all doubt left Tony, and he was lost in Loki's impassioned embrace. The kisses were never a lie. They may come from lying and deceiving lips, but the action itself was always a pure truth: I want you beside me, it said, and I welcome you to me.

Tony knew the god was dying, and he could do nothing to help. Powerless. A man of such wealth and genius, with so much at his fingertips, could do nothing for the one who mattered to him the most. Was that not always the way?

Tony found himself deep in the disassembled gun when he finally became aware of himself. Jarvis was doing a complete scan on the parts while Tony's fingers automatically typed in code at the desk.

What the hell was he doing? He took a step back and stumbled, catching himself, the world spinning. The much depleted bottle of scotch just beside the disassembled gun was a telltale sign of just why he was so disoriented. He groaned, smoothing a hand down his face. He found a chair and sank into it, mind raging on drunkenly. He may have heard a knock at the glass door, but he ignored it and soon it went away.

Tony knew not how long he spent in his lab. With his mind going in circles, it could have been a matter of minutes, or it could have been days. When he was too hungry to stand, he would root around in the mini fridge he kept for late night projects. When he grew too weary to keep his eyes open, he dozed in his chair. He would speak to Jarvis every so often, but the computer was a poor replacement for the one he really needed at his side.

Again, codependency is a bitch.

It was four days, or so Tony thought, since he had slept something like four times, before another knock came at the glass door. This time, Tony graced the knocker with his attention. Bruce stood there, looking rather better than he had before. The various cuts and bruises appeared to be healing nicely. He was holding a carafe full of coffee and two mugs. Some sort of peace offering, or condolence. Tony pressed that last one far out of his mind as he ordered Jarvis to unlock the door for his fellow scientist.

Bruce stepped in, placing the mugs on the table. "Tony, I hope you aren't spiraling into a catatonic state." Tony looked upon his friend with empty eyes, shoulders pitifully stooped forward. Loki would have been appalled. Even that thought made Tony's chest clench painfully. Bruce winced at the display. "Okay, you already are." He poured them a mug of coffee each, taking a seat by the sorrow-bent man.

"Nice deduction, Doctor Espresso." The mug nearest Tony was picked up by a numb hand. The coffee burnt his tongue, but he did not feel it, drinking on.

Bruce tried to do the same, but flinched back at the heat. He stared at Tony, worry growing in his eyes. "I'm not a therapist, but you look like you need to talk. Do you want to talk?"

"I do better with these things on my own," Tony replied blandly, still sucking down the piping hot drink. It warmed his stomach, but did little to warm his weary heart.

He got a scoff for that. "Yeah, you are doing a great job of it so far. You've already missed two meetings. Fury is even starting to worry about you."

"Let him worry," Tony growled. That sent Bruce into a prolonged silence. They drank their beverages quietly, not making eye contact.

The next time Bruce spoke, after finishing his own cup of coffee and refilling it, his voice was delicate. "In the past two meetings, we discussed making Loki an Avenger."

That brought Tony back to awareness. "You- what?"

Bruce shrugged. "It was Steve's idea. Even Fury is coming around to it."

"But, how?" It could not be. This was yet another one of his hallucinations that he had been prone to in the past few days of spiraling. It had to be.

Tony leaned intently forward as Bruce explained. "Loki proved himself to be trustworthy and helpful in a pinch. This decision is almost unanimous. We just need you to come to the next meeting and agree."

Tony reeled back, mind racing. He came to one final conclusion and voiced it. "Is this just a ploy to get me out of the lab?"

Bruce chuckled lowly at that. "For once, no. Though, it does do that as well."

"What if he doesn't come back?" Tony hated how soft and broken he sounded, but that was the question that had been roiling in his mind. What if the god had perished? What if the blast from his repulsors and the breaking of the staff had done him in?

"What was that little piece of knowledge you told us?" Bruce seemed to ponder dramatically for a very quick moment. "Oh yes. He is a god. He'll live through it."

Tony's gaze became distant once again. "He'd better, that… ass," he finished lamely.

"So, are you coming to the next meeting?" Bruce pried.

"Yeah, sure," Tony replied flippantly.

"Don't be drunk," he warned the slightly less catatonic man.

Tony shrugged. "Can't guarantee that." In fact, he was quite sober. The bottle of scotch had run out a while ago, and he had not bothered to grab another.

Bruce stood, leaving the half empty pot of coffee behind. "Take a shower first. You reek of machine oil and," he scrunched his nose, unable to finish. "Just clean up, Tony." That earned him a one-finger salute as he walked out of the lab. Tony contemplated not bathing, just to spite the man, but in the end he did end up venturing up to his room and taking a shower, finally sleeping in his own bed, revisiting his time spent in that bed with the god in his arms before he fell asleep. That deep ache set in his chest once more, and it was still there when he woke to a bed destitute of his companion after yet another nightmare-plagued sleep.

He ghosted his way to the meeting, not needing the usual wake-up call from Jarvis to bring him there. For once, Tony was not the last one in. In fact, it was only Steve and Bruce sitting at the long table, the agents and the director on their way.

"Welcome back, Tony," Steve said carefully as he sat in his usual chair.

"And sober, too. What do you know," Tony replied just a bit tersely. He still was not ready for the judging looks he knew he would get from his comrades. Who was he kidding? They knew he had been shacking it up with the Norse god after they saw that little display of affection just before he had returned to Asgard. There really was no use hiding it anymore, though he dared not bring it up on his own.

The repaired cherry wood door opened, and Tony turned a lazy eye on it, suddenly sitting up straight as he saw who it was.

"Pepper?" She tightened her lips as he said her name. "Oh, don't look at me like that," he pleaded half-heartedly.

"Director Fury told me to come. He said you were going through something, and that you needed some support," Pepper replied swiftly, taking a graceful seat at a chair far from him.

Tony glanced at Bruce and Steve in turn. "That was… considerate? I thought you had left for good."

"I still have your company to run, Tony, and despite all that has happened," she stared at him pointedly, "I do still care about you, whether you want me to or not."

"Caring. Caring is nice," Tony replied quickly and was going to go on and say something else, but the doors opened once more and Clint, Natasha and Fury entered the room with an authoritative air.

They sat, and Nick addressed the group, fingers in a steeple before him. "Avengers, I want to start out by saying good work, again, to you all." He rounded on Tony. "You were the only one to not hear that at the previous meetings, so I thought I would say it again." He was pissed at Tony's absence, quite obviously. "Next on the agenda is what the hell you have been up to these past four days, Tony. Care to explain?"

He rolled his eyes at the director. "Analyzing my atrocity of an invention in a booze-filled rage, obviously."

Steve sat forward, eying him worriedly. "I looked in on you a few times. You seemed upset."

"No, really? I hadn't noticed," Tony said bitterly. "Thank you Captain Obvious."

"Is it about Loki?" Natasha questioned softly. Damn it, she knew just how to ask those questions. Professional interrogator, Tony reminded himself.

Tony scoffed. "What isn't?"

"What is your exact relationship to Loki?" Nick Fury's question was hard, but still just that – a question.

"What, you want to know the kinky details? Fury, I never pictured you as one of those types. I'm impressed." Tony could see the anger blooming in the director's eye, but it was held in check.

Pepper was the one to speak next, voice shrill with disbelief. "Are you insane? He tried to blow up the whole city!"

"I'm human," Tony explained as mildly and as non-confrontational as possible, "and he happened to save my life. I think that's reason enough to be friendly."

"Not that friendly," Clint said lowly, almost to himself.

Tony shrugged. "That ass, how could I resist?"

"Oh, god, Tony!" Pepper exclaimed, and the sentiment appeared to be universal. Too much information, apparently. At that moment, Tony did not give a flying fuck.

"I really did not need to know more than you two being friendly," Nick said uncomfortably.

"What Director Fury wants to know is whether your decision about letting Loki join the Avengers will be influenced by your relationship with him," Natasha cut in, ever the one with the most logical tongue.

Tony thought on this for a moment and voiced his ideas on the matter. "Assuming he can do magic here, Loki is a competent healer. You saw that he is also an able fighter. He can also keep our drinks cold and provide adequate air conditioning," Tony added flippantly. "So yes, I would recommend him for the Avengers, and not just because I'm fuc-"

"Yes, we get the gist, Stark," Nick Fury interjected sternly, saving Tony from further humility. Tony shrugged it off. "Very well. It is unanimous, then. Loki is officially a member of the Avengers, pending on whether he remains sane." He turned back to Tony. "And now for the next item. You have been analyzing the gun that you created. What have you found?"

Tony shrugged once again. "My genius, as usual, though I was imprisoned at the time, so it is a little less magnificent than I tend to expect of myself." He was surprised that he was able to pull off being his usual cocky self, and finding it easy. Well, baby steps, right? He had to get over his dependency on the god somehow. "I've also been analyzing my old suit that ejected me. Apparently it was a side-effect from the portal and they were able to tap into that to get inside my suit. With no portal, they couldn't get in the second time around, even though I had a backup system in place for just that occasion. There you go, problem solved."

"That's what you've been doing for the past four days?" Steve did not seem to be able to comprehend it, but then again, he hardly understood how to turn on a computer.

"Among other things," Tony muttered.

"Like moping?" Bruce interjected, raising an eyebrow.

Tony massaged his temple with a hand. His voice was quiet, destitute. "He could be dead, for all I know."

To everyone's surprise, it was Clint who spoke next. "If anyone can survive, it's that bastard. He is pretty good at it." In his own way, he was trying to comfort Tony in his despair that the genius was barely able to cover up. "If he can handle one of my explosive-tipped arrows and a major beating from the Hulk, he can live through anything."

"And if he can heal himself, as you said," Steve added, "he'll be fine in no time."

If only that were true, Tony thought. In fact, as the days wore on, that truth faded into the continued despair of the man. He passed his time by twiddling with various old projects of his, not really with purpose. It was something for him to do. This was what had helped him before, when he was trying to recover from Afghanistan. He had worked on his suit. Now, he was working on stupid projects that really did not distract him from the lack of his new support system.

Despite everything, Tony eventually got into a steady rhythm of life. He eventually moved on from his old projects and began thinking of new advancements to upgrade his suit with. The ache of despair subsided in the following weeks, until all Tony could feel was numbness in his chest. He tried to think little of Loki, but every time he came to mind, that ache returned with a vengeance and wrenched its way into his heart. He refused to give the feeling a name, though he knew what some would call it. Tony Stark did not love, he thought to himself, so he refused to acknowledge the feeling. It was just a desire for comfort, he told himself. Just a desire to be accepted into that cool embrace.

It was hard, but Tony blocked out his pain with work. He invented, he created, he built. At the end of each day, he fell exhausted into his bed and slept hard, only to awake in the morning and do the same thing all over again. He felt caged in his own tower, by his own hand. When this feeling got too unbearable to stand, he would take his suit out and fly until he felt free once again. He still attended the Avengers meetings when they came up, and he was visited by his comrades frequently. Even Pepper continued bringing him coffee and updates on Stark Industries.

On the third week after the grand battle, Tony was deep in soldering wires together in a gauntlet of his suit when he heard a clatter of something metallic falling to the ground somewhere behind him.

"Hey Dummy, that'd better not be you dropping my stuff," he called back. That damn robot arm was always getting in the way. Tony stood slowly. Maybe he really should donate it to-

Strong arms wrapped about his shoulders from behind him, and cool lips touched his ear. The soothing scent of evergreen and mint filled his senses.

"Good to see you, minn sváss."

Tony turned, his breath caught in his throat, relief shuddering through him, heart thundering with such intense feeling that his knees felt weak. He clung to the god, fists balling in supple leather. Somehow, he refused to believe what his eyes were showing him. This could not be real. His daydreams had finally taken him over the edge of insanity, and now the visions of the god even felt solid. He did not believe the smiling god still holding him close.

He felt the steady heartbeat beneath his shaking hands, and suddenly it was real. "Loki," he breathed. Tony pulled him down into a desperate, passionate kiss, which was received and reciprocated eagerly. Hands grasped and pulled, lips and tongues moving together anxiously and wantonly. It had only been three weeks, but to Tony, it felt like three years had passed since their last lusty embrace. He poured all of his fear, all of his waiting in tribulation, into that single meeting of lips. He was practically biting for more of the god's mouth, but Loki pulled away slowly.

Breathless, Tony stared deeply into those almost glowing green eyes. "You're back. You are back, right?" he asked lamely, and was answered with a simple grin from the god.

"As long as you want me," Loki replied softly.

Tony let out a sighing laugh. "Oh, I want you." Words tumbled out of his mouth, shaking from his almost painful joy. "I- I missed you, you know? I spent so much time thinking, about you, about this," he clutched at Loki, both wanting to avoid those soft green eyes and to never look away from them again. His gaze settled on darting every which way. "I may have come to some sort of… conclusion. It might just be the loneliness or the massive need for sex talking, but… I- I- think I-" he choked on the word. "Something with an 'L'. It has an 'L' in it. At least I think it does."

The smile that broke across Loki's cheeks was heartbreakingly beautiful in Tony's eyes. "I know. I share your feeling."

"It starts with an 'L'," Tony repeated, unaware that he was still speaking, still trying to get out the sentiment that he really did not know he would be able to ever properly voice. "There might be an 'O'."

Loki chuckled, clutching Tony tightly. "Indeed, something like that."

"You're an Avenger," Tony mumbled into the god's shoulder, unable to release his hold on him. Not that he tried. He simply could not find any other words to say, so he went with the biggest news first.

"I'm also alive," he pointed out. Okay, the Avengers thing was the second biggest news.

Tony laughed breathily. "Yeah."

"And ást." Cool lips pressed to Tony's neck. "You know what it means." He did not need Jarvis to translate that one. It was the word that started with 'L' and had an 'O' in there somewhere.

"That too."

They stared into one another's eyes, exchanging the meaning they could not properly convey with their words. Their embrace was strong, and lasted as long as they could make it last. That sentiment followed through to everything they did from that moment on.

One day, one kiss, one passionate embrace at a time; looking only at what lay just on the horizon, taking in each moment as it came. The future was a distant and frivolous concept that they wished not to dwell on, instead focusing on what they shared in the moment: trust, companionship, lust, and, though remaining unsaid, love.

And so their lives went on as such, simply living and thriving as they struggled forward, each step bringing trouble and, in equal measure, unbearable pleasure. They brought each other the recognition that they both strove to earn, and also comfort and soothing from the hurts that ran too deep to heal.

Enemies became comrades, and comrades became friends, slowly but surely building a strong bond of trust. Loki, God of Lies and Mischief, had been tamed and released from his seemingly unending imprisonment, and Tony Stark, Iron Man, had been the one to do it, and the god had done the same for him.

End Notes: Join me in a collective "AWWWW!"

Old Norse translation: minn sváss – my beloved, ást – love.

And that's it! Thanks for sticking with me until the end, dear readers! I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. I may be working on another fic, so stick around for that one.

Again, thank you for all your glorious reviews!