Only Speak When It Improves the Silence

Chapter III

Tony had done a lot of crazy shit in his life, but nothing could add up to be as bad as this. Ever since Loki had started living with him everything in his life had been swirling out of control—not that he had much control over his life lately, but it made him feel better thinking that he did. The reason why Tony never wanted an animal growing up was that if he had to take care of anything, it would die. He could hardly take care of himself, how had anyone—how was he—expecting to take care of another living, breathing, thing?

Of course, taking care of someone that didn't want help made it even worse. Whenever Tony tried to help Loki with anything, no matter how small, he would receive glares and slaps from the fallen God. After two days of this treatment Tony had given up on it and had let the God do what he pleased, which was mostly staying locked up in the guest room that had become his and play around with the tablet he had taken from Tony. Tony didn't mind that so much, except when Loki had JARVIS's full attention and then it began to bother him.

His own AI had left him for the war criminal.

Since JARVIS was wired around the whole house, and since he was a computer program and not an actual human being, JARVIS could be anywhere at any time, so there really was no room for argument. It still bothered Tony though. He wanted to know what Loki was using JARVIS for, but every time he asked he would get the same responds: "I'm sorry sir. Mr. Laufeyson has asked me to keep our sessions privet. But I assure you, if anything alarming arises, I will alert you, Sir."

That didn't comfort him at all. Tony trusted JARVIS with his life, but something about all of this seemed wrong; fishy. Which brought him back to his current problem. "Jay, do you think that Loki would be mad if I gave this to him?" Tony asked as he held up light pink sweat pants that used to be white. Tony had been doing the laundry and had added his red boxers to the whites. It hadn't been his brightest moment and now everything white was pink, save for maybe a sock that had managed to dodge the onslaught of colors.

"Unquestionably, sir."

"Well shit, Jay. Thanks for the help." Tony said in frustration as he threw the clothes into the dryer.

"I tried to warn you, sir. If I remember correctly you told me to 'shut my pie hole'."

Tony looked up at the ceiling, frowning in annoyance. "Don't give me that sass, Jay."

"My apologies, sir."

Tony sighed and set the dryer before walking back to the living room. Loki was sitting on the couch with the tablet, which surprised Tony for a moment. "What up Reindeer Games? Finally coming out of your bat hole?" Loki looked up from what he was doing and quickly shut off his tablet, getting to his feet. He looked like a deer in headlights; as if he was just caught doing something he shouldn't. "Hey, hey. Relax. Want some food? You look like you could use some food." Tony looked him over. "Yeah. I'm gonna order us dinner since neither one of us can cook."

Loki watched Tony walk towards the kitchen, talking to JARVIS about different foods he wanted delivered. With a sigh, the God grabbed the tablet again and returned to his seat, pulling his knees up to his chest so he was almost a ball on the couch. He ignored Tony's words for the most part and unlocked the tablet to continue what he was doing. After having two days to be enraged about his situation, Loki had gotten tired of self-pity and decided he should do something about it. Not that he could do much but there was still something he could do; anything.

That was why he had started… befriending JARVIS. The computer—at least that's what Tony had said JARVIS was, or was that… AI? What was AI?—was actually rather patient with him. Unlike Tony who had given up on him two days into their little sleep over. Of course Loki didn't blame him, not at all. After he had learned to work the tablet—again, thanks to JARVIS—Loki had began doing research on the mortals he so despised, and had asked JARVIS to keep his doings silent from Stark.

Human history intrigued him. He went back as far as Ancient Greek, learning the different languages and history to each civilization. He took a great interest in Nordic history though, and began doing research on himself, only to find that humans hated him just as much as the Aesir did. Not that it mattered, he still had worshipers in that time—he was a God after all—not that they were many, but temples of him still rose and fell, just like temples of Thor and Odin. Though his worshipers were outcast and demented people, they praised him like any other God and almost begged him to bring Ragnarok.

He learned about World War I and II; learned about Captain America and the fall of the Third Reich. Every war he read, every piece of information he absorbed, he became more and more disgusted by Midgardians. He began to think that the Aesir at least fought with dignity; they went to war only when necessary and battled for glory. Mortals wanted nothing but power and destruction. They didn't need him, or anything—anyone—else to come and aid them in that. They were killing themselves as it is.

"Whatcha reading, Reindeer Games?"

Loki's head snapped up as he felt a hot breath on his neck. He moved as far away from Tony as he possibly could without falling off the couch, narrowing his bright green eyes at the man.

"What? Did I scare you? Too close for comfort? Was I violating your personal space? Do Gods have personal space? You know I hear you guys throw hell of a lot of orgies." Tony said with a wide smirk as he leaned his hip against the couch, watching as Loki shook his head and rolled his eyes and began to type on the tablet.

"What do you want, Stark?" JARVIS spoke as Loki typed. "I do not have time for your childish games."

"Ouch. You know, I think that's part of my charm. Can't change that. Sorry. You're stuck with it, big guy." Tony pointed a finger at him. "Want something to drink while we wait for our food? I'm getting something to drink." Tony pushed away from the couch as he made his way to the bar against the wall. He kept his eyes on Loki though, still uneasy about having him there to begin with.

"I believe we've been here before, have we not?"

"Oh yeah. Right before we kicked your ass and sent you packing back to Asgard with Big Brother Thor." Tony said as he poured himself some scotch. The silence that followed was agonizing and it was then that Tony realized he might have said the wrong thing. Oops.

"I think I'll take that drink, Stark."

"Great!" Tony poured another glass full of scotch and picked them both up, moving to the couch and handing one to Loki, who in turn downed it like it was water. Huh. Interesting. "Okay, so, I just had a brilliant idea. Want to hear it?" Tony turned to Loki, but didn't give him a chance to type. "Great. So I was thinking, since you're using my tablet to do whatever you're doing—searching up porn, blogging about your sad life, going through tumblr pictures—and you're also using JARVIS to… do whatever, I was thinking maybe we could teach you sign language. What do you say, Jay? Think you can teach Loki some sign language?"

"Certainly, sir. If Mr. Laufeyson so wishes it."

"Great, cause it's getting really weird hearing you talk when he types stuff out." Tony said as he sipped his scotch, loving the burning in his throat before his body began to numb itself out.

"My apologies, sir."

Tony turned to look at Loki who had a frown on his face; strands of black hair falling over his eyes. Loki wore black sweat pants and a large black long sleeve shirt, that all belonged to Tony of course. He really needed to go shopping.

"What is… sign language?"

"Oh." Tony cleared his throat. "It's for deaf and mute people. You know, something us mortals came up with so our handicap people can communicate." When Loki only stared at him with a droll glare he continued. "It's, uh, speaking with your hands. Or body language. Or something. Jay?"

"Sign language is a system of communication using manual, facial, and other body movements. It is highly used with individuals that are deaf or mute, or both."

Loki glanced down at the tablet in his hands, then nodded a bit slowly, more to himself than to Tony as he thought this over in his head. Being able to communicate with his hands would prove useful, and he wouldn't have to type everything out; that was just tedious, and even if he was a fast learner, technology was still not his forte.

"Alright, Stark. I will learn the language of signs."

Tony grinned wide, feeling as if he had accomplished something useful. "Great! Fantastic! You can start in the morning, I'm sure JARVIS will be an excellent teacher." Just as he finished speaking, the doorbell rang.

"Sir, your food is here."

Dinner had passed relatively silent—no pun intended. Tony did all the talking. He went on and on about his latest inventions and how the weather was outside and how it was such a great time to go to the beach and for a drive or for a fly around the city in his suit. He hardly ate, just drank and slurped up some noodles and stealing chicken from Loki's side of the table. Loki ate calmly, listening to Tony ramble about useless information that he could care less about.

He was beginning to wonder if Tony simply liked the sound of his voice and him being unable to talk was like paradise for the genius.

After dinner JARVIS had reminded Tony that he still needed to check on the laundry. With a curse Tony went to the laundry room and pulled open the door for the dryer. He pulled out the hot clothes and began to throw them on the basket.

One pink shirt, one pair of pink socks, one pair of pink shorts, two pink tank tops, and a pair of pink sweat pants later Loki was barging into the room, throwing a towel at Tony's face and silently screaming at him as he held up his pink clothing. Tony only grinned in amusement and tried not to laugh as Loki stormed out of the room, holding a mixture of anger and amusement on his face.