Helper
Tony wakes up to a series of not friendly-sounding beeping noises, his head fuzzy from blood loss and pain. He glances to his left, taking in the sight of Loki furiously pressing buttons with his other hand while the other hovers on the metallic steering column.
"You awake, Stark?" he asks sternly without looking away from the swirling holograms.
"Yeah," Tony answers, voice gruff from unconsciousness. "Where are we headed?" Loki tsks and slides some switch from right to left.
"Not far enough," he replies, "but the ship won't last much longer, it took too much damage on our way out. We must land soon." He nods towards the windshield and Tony sees a planet very close and nearing. "That's our destination. It's called Taeer and it's well-known for its reputation as the home of criminals, refugees, drifters and other unfortunate creatures." Loki turns his face to look at Tony, wearing a crooked smile. "Thus, a perfect place to blend in and a good-enough place for a temporary hideaway." Tony huffs in amusement.
"Marvelous," he says colorlessly and stares at the view before him.
As they keep descending towards the planet's surface, they hear a semi-loud crackle and a buzz when the ship's comm turns online and someone starts speaking in what sounds like just another jibber language to Tony. Loki seems to be ignoring it, though he does look a bit more drained now that the voice keeps repeating the same vocables in a sharp tone.
"What are they saying? Is it some sort of an air-traffic control?" Tony asks, glancing over at Loki. His brow is furrowed and turning sweaty as he seems to concentrate on the landing and not minding the now more demanding tone of voice booming in the comm. They are already very near the planet's ground surface.
"Yes," he says tautly and jerks his head in the general direction of Tony. "Press that stabilization button before you." Tony looks at the flickering hologram buttons before him.
"Which one?" he asks and Loki sighs impatiently, leaning into Tony's space to press it himself. "Hey! Not my fault! I don't have that gibberish translation thingy you do, and I can't operate an alien spaceship without exploring a bit first! How did you even expect me to fly this thing?" Loki just rolls his eyes and wipes at his brow, grunting as he does. Tony squints his eyes.
"Seriously," he presses. "And why would you need me to pilot a ship when you're completely capable of doing it yourself? Is there something else you need me for?" Loki purses his lips, scrunching up his nose. "Something you didn't wanna share, perhaps, hm? Well, I'm not going to be used as a piece to your schemes, Loki!" he rambles on and tightens his hold on the seat's armrests. Loki bares his teeth and suddenly bangs his fist against the control panel, shattering the transparent material. Tony's eyes widen as he flinches away from the outburst.
"SHUT IT, WILL YOU?!" Loki yells, knocking down switches and pressing buttons, finally silencing the damn comm. Then he slides his hand quickly on the steering handle, making the shuttle dive fast towards the ground and then slamming his palm on the broken panel, abruptly shutting the ship down.
"WHAT THE FUCK, LOKI?!" Tony screams as they begin losing altitude fast and stares out of the windshield with a horrified expression. Their ship falls down the relatively small distance, crashes and rolls over some time, and Tony catches a glimpse two aircrafts flying high above, descending down after them. Oh.
Their wreck of a ship stops so that they're hanging face towards the ground. Loki unbuckles himself, falling on the shattered windshield not as gracefully as he usually would and then hurrying to unbuckle Tony. Together they get their fumbling hands to open the tack and Loki catches Tony as he falls down. Even though he feels like he should be embarrassed over being carried, right now Tony feels more thankful for the fact, since he wasn't sure if he'd make it out of the ruins on his own.
With the hand that is not holding Tony upright, Loki rips off a part of the paneling on the ruined floor, twists a lever under it and starts kicking at the hatch on the ship's belly. Tony supposes it's an emergency exit, so he, too, joins the kicking. Soon, the hatch flies away and Loki lifts Tony so that he can slide out from it. Next he pushes the scepters out of the hole to him and lastly climbing out himself.
"Hurry, they're just above us," Tony hisses, talking about the aircrafts that were evidently chasing after them. He leans against the wreck and extends a hand for Loki to take support from. Loki takes it and they make their way towards the surrounding woods, supporting each other by their flanks. Tony fires three shots at the nearest aircraft, unfortunately only making small damage on the surface, while Loki manages one shot, which hits the pilot (that's one crappy windshield), causing the whole craft to fall.
"Showoff," Tony mutters as they quickly limp into the cover of the trees and he can basically feel Loki smirking next to him. They crouch when they reach the tree line, both taking aim carefully on the other aircraft. It's arched in such a way that hitting the pilot would be impossible, so they target the engines instead. They both hit and the ship crashes down. Tony fist pumps the air (for which he gets a weirded out look from Loki) and they turn on their heel to get away from the scene.
They keep moving and moving until the forest ends, and find a shitty, rugged city not faraway from the woods. Tony thinks that they were about two hours on the move, so he supposes that their journey was about 6 miles long. It's already dark and Tony watches absently as unfamiliar stars litter the sky. His legs are shaking and he feels dehydrated and wonders how he managed to make it even this far.
They find a ratty, empty, small house by the outskirts of the city and get into it, collapsing on to the dirty, earthen floor. The house seems to be more like an abandoned storage, which it might as well be.
Tony's head is spinning as the blood loss keeps getting impossibly even worse and he feels like dying now that he got to lie down. But getting up proves itself impossible, so he keeps still, compressing the wound on his shoulder. Then he feels someone rolling him over and forcing his shirt open (but the collar of the shirt still stays locked in place, the gem glistening with dim blue light at the center of it). He faintly registers Loki pressing a cloth against his injured shoulder and lets out a breathy grunt. The trickster hushes him and wipes the excess blood around the wound away and then presses the rag back against it.
"We need water," he says hoarsely, out of breath from exhaustion. Tony cracks his eyes open.
"Where're we supposed to get that?" he slurs back up at the god. Loki meets his gaze but says nothing. They sit in silence for a while.
Swish.
Both snapping their heads up as they hear a sound coming from the doorway, Loki grabs a scepter an trains it towards the source. There stands a little alien, supposedly a young girl, with yellow skin and dark hair, holding a clay vase, stripes of cloth and a small jar in her arms. She springs up to her toes, taking a small step back as she's noticed. The alien kid begins talking with yet another language Tony doesn't get, sounding scared.
Loki stares at her and once she finishes he gives a curt nod, lowering the spear in his hand a tad.
"She said that she saw us coming here, injured, so she came for our aid," he says, eyeing the girl though his face is turned to Tony. "Do you have any idea who we are, little Aakon girl?" he asks cautiously. The girl twitches, probably alarmed and shakes her head. Loki lets out a sigh.
"Come, give me the water," he then said, motioning for the girl to come. She did as she was told, handing Loki the vase and kneeling beside Tony.
"Are your parents drifters?" Loki asked the girl, drinking a mouthful of water before pouring a decent amount of it down Tony's throat, supporting his head on his thighs. Tony is rather positive that the girl isn't there to poison them, and Loki did already drink the liquid, so he swallows. Also he's fucking thirsty. The girl answers in what seems to be her native language and Loki hums at her answer. "I thought so."
Loki removed the cloth from the wound on Tony's shoulder and splashes water on it. Tony bites his lip to not hiss at the cold water hurting the sensitive skin of the wound. Loki dries the area carelessly before reaching out and taking the small jar from the alien girl. He inspects it contents briefly yet thoroughly before dipping his finger in and moving it towards Tony's shoulder.
"Whoa," Tony halts him with a partially raised hand. "What's that?" he asks, eyeing the greenish cream. Loki's mouth tightens as he looks at the ceiling like he was praying for patience.
"It is merely balm for the wound, Stark. It'll accelerate the healing," he tells Tony, shoving the finger covered with the substance back towards the wound. Tony blocks its way with a hand and sends a suspicious look to Loki. He knows that Loki is more than capable of forcing that cream to his shoulder if he is so inclined, but Tony hopes that he'll be able to appeal to Loki's humane side, if it really existed. So he keeps staring.
Loki huffs in irritation and abruptly pushes up the tight shirt, revealing a painful-looking, deep cut on his left side. Though it seems to be already healing, he unceremoniously spreads the ointment over it and pulls the leather shirt back down.
"Satisfied?" he asks, grabbing the jar to get another portion for Tony. Tony rolls his eyes and jerks his head to tell Loki he can proceed. The moment the god touches the wound with his balm covered finger, Tony feels a soothing coolness spreading over the area. The pain is reduced (though not by much, but it's still something) and he could swear he was almost able feel the torn tissue and veins beginning to fold themselves back together with more vigor. He lets loose an involuntary sigh and Loki huffs.
"I told you it would help, you foolish mortal," he says, adding more of the substance to the wound.
"Shut up," Tony quips as he lets his tense muscles relax a bit. The wound is located on his right shoulder, above the ugly brand as it had unluckily just missed it. Yay, more scars to add up to the collection.
Then it hits him, that the arc reactor is exposed to two pairs of curious eyes. He looks over at the girl who doesn't seem too interested, instead handing stripes of cloth to Loki, who's currently tying them over Tony's shoulder. His eyes don't leave her right away and he wonders why the kid would help two shaggy men she's never met in her life. He lets it pass as the pure kindness of a child, though he still wants to know more. Loki though, he just glares at before averting his eyes.
Then, he lets his guard back down, exhaustion taking place instead. His peaceful slumber was interrupted though when someone slapped his cheek hard.
"Hey!" he exclaims, now completely awake, rubbing his face and again glaring up at Loki. The guy just smirks down at him.
"It was for your own good, Stark," he says, sounding like he totally didn't mean what he just said. Sadist. "Drink," he then orders, bringing the vase close to Tony's lips. Tony does, glowering at Loki the whole time.
"Good lad," he praises after Tony's done, mockingly patting his cheek. Tony squints his eyes at him. "Now, feel free to sleep." Loki moves away from Tony, to apparently speak with the girl, and Tony hopes he'll show their gratitude to her. But before he can make sure of that, he's already drifting away to sleep.
Tony wakes up with his usual start to awareness, lying on his side on a very uncomfortable surface. Sunlight is streaming through the tattered drape hanging over the doorway as well as from the small slot up in the wall. He grunts and tries to roll onto his other shoulder, only to remember it's still injured. He gasps in pain and surges up to sit.
"Motherfucker!" he curses, rubbing and studying his shoulder. No blood has seeped through the patching, so Tony supposes the balm worked its magic overnight.
"Always so tactful with your speech, aren't you, Stark?" he hears a silky voice taunting by his side. He looks over at Loki who's currently heaving himself up to sit, combing his fingers through the black, wavy hair. Tony sees the burnt tussle of hair and stifles a snort. Instead, he hums sharply.
"Not all of us were raised in fancy castles," he retorts, pulling at the stripes cloth to see the wound. Loki huffs and creeps closer to Tony.
"That's not what I heard from your archer friend," he says smugly, fingers probing at the bandaging to help Tony remove it. The engineer slaps the pale hands away and looks Loki in the eye.
"What do you mean?" he asks, frowning at him. Loki twitches the left corner of his mouth slightly upwards.
"He told me things," he begins. "Including you living your childhood in conditions equaling with living in a castle." Tony purses his lips.
"Well, it certainly didn't feel that way," he says stiffly, remembering his alcoholic, ignorant father and the years spent in boarding schools. Loki's eyebrows shot up a tad as if surprised, but he said nothing. Tony kept fumbling with the cloth, since it fucking wouldn't open. He threw his hand towards the floor angrily, groaning in defeat.
"I can't get it open," he mumbled irritably, not even needing to spare Loki a glance to know that the bastard was smirking. Loki cleared his throat, waiting. Tony turned to look at him, aghast, and huffed.
"Please, Prince Loki, would you aid this pitiful mortal in his distress?" he asked mockingly, even offering Loki a small bow. Even though he knew Loki was (most likely) mostly just playing, Tony still felt piqued over the fact that he had to – repetitively – accept Loki's help. It was freaking eating him.
Loki flashed Tony a sharky smile.
"Sure," he said, reached with his hands and swiftly removed the cloth, exposing the wound on Tony's shoulder. It was still healing, but it resembled more like a two-week-old wound rather than a day ago acquired.
"Huh. So, I guess your magical cream of healing worked after all." Loki rolled his eyes, tugging the cloth back on. "Speaking of which, where's the little yellow kid? You scare her away?" Even though Tony had previously referred to about 98% of the aliens he had encountered as "it"s, he'd made the same exception on the girl as he had done with Loki and the Other. His train of thought might have seemed irrational, but he just couldn't bring himself to call those animals with personal pronouns.
"I sent her back to her family," Loki answered, busying himself by tidying his cuticles. "Though I did ask for another favor before she left. I bet she shall and come to us soon enough."
"Hm," Tony replied, moving onto next subject. "How long do you think it'll take for the guys who attacked us to figure out our location? I mean, they most likely already know that we're somewhere around here, given that this is the nearest place with population." Loki glanced up from his nails at Tony as he spoke.
"Not long, I assume. The Other most likely described our craft to the space surveillance crew and then bribed them into capturing us. That'd explain the reason for their hostile behavior," Loki concluded, eyes distant. Tony stays quiet for a small while.
"Nice, officially outlaws now!" he says, a grin of self-irony in place. "Though I reckon it isn't new to you?" he jabs, eyeing Loki mischievously. Loki looks fed up as he glares back at Tony. When he doesn't say anything, Tony continues,
"So, what was the thing you needed me for? Not gonna sell me for some goods, are you? Not really your style, though, I bet you'd be more creative with that. More of a perfectionist creating an evil master plan -type, right?" Loki huffs.
"I shall tell you when the time comes," he says prudently. "But rest assured, it's no evil master plan." Tony cracks a smile at that.
"Yeah. I wish I could believe that."
The curtain to their temporary hiding spot flaps and the alien kid steps in. Her arms are full with drags.
"There you are!" Loki says gruffly, rising up and walking to the girl, taking the stuff from her. "Thank you, Oora." Tony is surprised to say at least to hear Loki say that. (First of all thanking someone, and secondly calling them politely and kindly by their name.) Oora nods at them both and heads quickly away.
"Should we pay her back someway?" Tony suggests, inching closer to Loki to have a look at the things Oora brought. Loki settles them to the ground as they sit back down.
"She is of a race consisting of idiotic and hotheaded warriors, which of whom also aren't exactly fond of you Midgardians," he says evenly and Tony gapes at him. "Let they be drifters or not, if we were to accidentally reveal ourselves, her family would most likely sell us out to our chasers or just smash our skulls out of a whim. And we have no way of paying our debt to her, since we have nothing we could give. Thus, cease your sentimental jammering and forget about the girl." Tony glowers at the god.
"Well, she seemed different, maybe her family's too," he still argues. Loki has opened the bundle Oora gave them, revealing that what Tony'd called drags were in fact clothes. Ugh, awesome.
"Or maybe not. Just let it go, Stark," Loki says calmly, like handling a retarded child. The thought makes Tony's brow knit in irritation.
Loki pulls out a small and dull knife from the package that had been wrapped inside the clothes.
"Come here," he suddenly beckons, holding out the knife and reaching with his other hand.
"I'd really rather not," Tony reverts, eyeing the knife suspiciously. Loki rolls his eyes and beckons with his hands again. Tony sighs and just goes this time.
"Since we seemingly cannot open these collars," he begins, grasping Tony's shirt, "I presume we need to remove them." He sinks the knife into the leather of the collar, but it jams after he's cut through half an inch.
"Interesting," Loki says, squinting his eyes as he inspects the part. "There probably is another strap inside the tunic's collar holding the stone in place. One that cannot be cut." Tony glares at the gem angrily. "Well," Loki suddenly utters and slashes a clean cut down Tony's side, shredding the leather shirt and doing the same to the pants.
"Hey!" Tony exclaims as Loki moves to cut the leather collar away from the uncuttable collar inside it. "A little warning next time, Edward Scissorhands?" Loki frowns at the nickname but instead of commenting on Tony's statement, he hands him the knife.
"My turn," he says curtly and, conceding, Tony shreds away Loki's clothes too. Then the trickster throws a too big long-sleeved shirt, an even bigger overcoat-thing with a hood and a pair of loose pants before Tony. He himself gets about the same stuff, though his coat looks more of a robe. There are also two pairs of sandshoes which Tony ties tightly on with the leather cords. Everything is colored with brown, navy green and grey shades, and everything smells and looks musty, dirty and worn. When Tony complains about it, Loki tells him that the clothes are from another abandoned house, so the quality was to be expected. Tony feels dirty already.
They pull their hoods on and tug their shirt collars high to hide the collars with the gems (or stones as Loki seems to call them) and use all the cloth they can find to make belts where they can attach the scepters and hide them under their big coats. Loki keeps the knife tucked safely somewhere in his person and Tony lets him, since he's anyway more of a hand-to-hand combat kind of guy than a knife thrower that Loki claims to be. Though he seems to prefer the word 'dagger'.
The package also contains a piece of bread and two fruits that Tony has never seen in his life as well as a ratty water flask. They eat quickly and agree that since Loki has the knife then Tony can have the flask.
With that, they leave the outskirts and make their way towards the bustle of thieves and criminals in the heart of the city.