Loki was on Earth, again, it was impossible that the God's had failed to detain him correctly. It had been simple, and easy for him to escape the glass cell he'd been thrown into. The problem was though, he had no idea why he was on Earth, or what he would do—he only had one thought. He knew where Tony Stark lived, the only man that had treated him with some form of respect—even more so than his own brother. He might not go there to cause trouble, but more to talk; remind Stark of the drink he'd failed to provide.

His journey didn't take him long, he had the power to teleport, and he'd ended up somewhere near Stark Tower. He managed to find his way into the building without setting off any alarms, well, so far as he thought. Loki could see the back of Tony Stark's head, from where he sat on a sofa, watching some electronic device flashing images of a rugby match on the screen. His light steps allowed him to creep up on Tony, he was close enough now that surely Tony would be able to feel the hairs on his neck standing on end, he would be able to hear, and feel Loki's breaths, and his slight movements that quivered the air around him.

"You promised me a drink," Loki commented quietly, a hushed chuckle escaping his lips.

Tony heard the familiar voice and jumped, pulling himself off the sofa in a sudden flourish of movements, dropping his bottle of beer on the floor. The contents of the bottle spilled out from the shattered glass, and Tony's uncoordinated steps left him with a jagged splinter of glass in the bottom on his foot. It was madness, at the same time that he wanted to run and hide, he was breaking down, and cursing in pain. He felt the more immediate danger was in his foot, and lifted the bloody limb so he could pull out the glass.

Loki could do nothing but watch silently, he hadn't expected a reaction like that, more something sarcastic and possibly offensive, but instead he'd literally been frightened by his very presence enough that he'd ended causing himself pain. All Loki had to do was speak, and it hadn't been his intention to harm Tony.

"Stay right there," Tony said, jabbing the shard of glass at Loki before limping off towards the kitchen.

Loki obeyed, he wasn't going to leave, but he felt following would probably make it worse.

Tony eventually limped back out of the kitchen, after wrapping up his foot in a thin kitchen towel. "What the hell are you doing here?" he asked, glaring at Loki.

"Entertainment, I was … lonely," Loki replied, his voice emotionless and dull.

"What, and you came to me?" Tony asked, "ppfft," he slumped down on the sofa and put his foot up on the table, not bothering to tidy the glass up from the floor.

"That's not a suitable way to treat a wound," Loki stated, gesturing to Tony's foot and taking a few steps forward. However, before he could get near, Tony threw a shard of glass at him and he stopped to avoid getting hit by it.

"Stay away," Tony demanded, brandishing another shard of glass in case Loki kept moving.

Loki gave a sigh, he didn't expect to be accepted at all, and of course Tony would be defensive, "You're not going to get very far threatening me in this state."