Chapter 6
Of course, all good things must come to an end, but only in Tony’s life would they come to an end so spectacularly.
It took Tony a moment to realize the bruised and bloodied mess at his kitchen table was Loki. When it finally clicked that he knew those emerald green eyes, could recognize them anywhere, he was striding across the room and checking his injuries.
“Jesus Christ.” He exclaimed, gently cradling Loki’s face and turning it left to right. “Jesus.. What happened, Lokes?”
The man gave a sleepy grin, “Fell in with the wrong sort, I’ll be OK.”
“Bullshit. You probably have a concussion. Stay right there.” He ran off to the bathroom, grabbing some face cloths and his first aid kit, then back to the kitchen for a bowl of water. Finally, he pulled a chair close to Loki and started cleaning him up. Under the blood and dirt, he only had a few cuts - a split lip, a couple of scratches - and he probably didn’t need stitches. Still, he didn’t look good, but he declined the offer of a trip to the ER, claiming that he was fine, and that it would heal with time.
“What’s the ‘wrong sort’, anyway? Are you in with the Mafia or something? ‘Cause, Jeez, Loki, you should see yourself.”
“No, no, no. Not the Mafia. If she were part of the Mafia, we’d all be fucked. She’s worse than the Mafia, but she doesn’t really deal with… With mortals all that much.” Tony was going to ask what he meant by ‘Mortals’, but one look at the other’s glossy eyes and he knew he wouldn’t get much coherence out of him.
“Jesus,” he repeated, “You should’ve gone to the hospital, Lokes. Does anything else hurt? Broken ribs? Ruptured spleen?” Loki ignored his questions, or perhaps didn’t hear them.
“I just really wanted to see you. I wanted to know you were real, and I found myself here.” He admitted, avoiding eye contact.
“Of course I’m real.” He said, pausing his ministrations. Loki smiled and leaned in to place a gentle kiss on Tony’s cheek. It was short, but it warmed him from the inside out, and he couldn’t help the wide goofy grin that spread across his face.
Loki, however, sobered up and frowned deeply, “I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry, Tony. That was incredibly unwise. What the Hel was I thinking?”
“Unwise? I don’t think it was unwise.” Tony interrupted, “Actually, I liked it. I mean, it was very nice. I liked it a lot. I mean, I’ve been sorta wanting to talk to you because, see, I really li--” And then there was a hand over his mouth, preventing him from continuing that thought.
“Don’t,” Loki was shaking, eyes wide, “You dare finish that sentence. Don’t even think it. I shouldn’t have kissed you. I shouldn’t even be getting so close to you. I may have messed up everything because I’m too stupid to remember that I don’t get you in the end. I don’t even stand a chance. So, do me a favor; forget that happened, forget your feelings for me, and just focus on the tower. The one in your dreams. You’re nearly there, Tony.”
He wanted to ask how Loki knew about his dreams. He wanted to get angry and grab his wrist and demand an explanation - answers to all of his questions - but Loki was already standing and walking out the door, leaving Tony with bloodied towels and an empty feeling.
He thought it would be difficult to get to sleep that night, with all that had happened. He was surprised to find, when he finally sprawled out on his bed, that he was exhausted. He was out only moments later.
He had another dream. They were back in the tower and the Loki who wore gold armor and had a spear (‘Glow-stick of destiny‘, he smirked, and ‘Rock of Ages’, and ‘Reindeer Games’, and ‘Stag Beetle’, and a hundred other nicknames around revolving around a golden helmet he wasn’t wearing) was talking.
“You’re nearly there, Tony.” Dream-Loki said, “Remember the tower.” And Tony tried to remember. He tried to remember shining suits of armor and shrapnel in his chest. He tried to remember caves in Afghanistan and men named Ho Yinsen, and bombs with his name on them. Then he tried to remember money and women and a distant father and a dead father.
“What if…” he starts, noticing the wetness on his cheeks “What if I don’t want to remember?”
“Then you’ll never know and you’ll always wonder.” Dream-Loki answers, pressing his staff to Tony’s chest. Tony remembers a metallic clink. He remembers an Arc Reactor in his chest, and he remembers saving lives. He remembers saving the world and Loki in chains and feeling relieved. And this time, when Loki tosses him out the window, he feels the cool embrace of metal envelope him and he feels safe.