Chapter 7
Loki was there when he woke, sitting at the table with a somber look on his face. Tony sat up in his bed, rubbing at his eyes and wondered if, perhaps, he was still dreaming. The pain in his chest, and the headache that burned near his eyes said no.
“We should go somewhere.” Loki said, eyes focused on the mug of water in front of him.
“Sure.” Tony’s voice was thick with recent slumber, “Where, like, the Bronx? There’s a bar not too far from here with a Tardis for a bathroom. I’ve always wanted to go, just never fou—“
“No. Somewhere further. Maybe Paris, or Monaco, or Reykjavik.”
Tony chuckled and stood, fixing his shirt. He spared a glance at Loki, whose face was twisted into a frown.
“Oh,” he managed, “You’re serious.”
“Please say yes, Tony.”
“I can’t.” Loki had opened his mouth to speak, but Tony wasn’t going to give in, “I can’t! Technically, I still have a job. How would it look if I just went on vacation while I’m supposed to be recuperating? Besides, I have no money to pay for a trip anywhere. I can’t just run off to Paris, or Monaco, or Reykjavik.”
“I’ll worry about the money. You can tell your boss it was part of the healing process.”
“I’m not going to lie to Phil.”
“Then talk to your therapist! I’m sure she would say it was a good idea!”
Tony all but growled in frustration, turning away from Loki and heading into the bathroom. The other man was persistent, however, following him to the door and knocking at it as he continued to talk.
“Tony. Come out. I know you’re just standing there. Look, we can go anywhere you like. I just want to get away from New York for a bit. Please say something, Tony.”
There was a moment of silence. Tony would’ve assumed the other had left, but he could still see his shadow under the door. Finally the man spoke again, this time with a hint of frustration in his voice.
“You can’t keep hiding from your problems. They’ll just get worse and worse if you let them fester. It’s not healthy, Tony. You did this after Afghanistan, and after the aliens attacked Manhattan. They called it Post-Traumatic-Stress. You just hid yourself away and drank and you kept having panic attacks because you did your best to ignore it. Well, that’s not going to happen here. We have too much to do.”
When had breathing become so difficult? When had his heart decided to lurch and speed up at the slightest provocation? When had the whole planet gone topsy-turvy; tilting on its axis and spinning wildly out of control?
And when had Loki opened the bathroom door?
It must’ve been a while ago, because now he was sitting on the bathroom floor, nestled close with one arm wrapped around Tony’s shoulders and his chin tucked against the top of his head.
He was trying to comfort him, murmuring softly; saying things like ‘Hush, now, you’re safe’ and ‘I’m so sorry, Tony, I shouldn’t have said that’. It made Tony feel like a child. At the same time, he really didn’t want it to stop. No one had held him like this in a long time.
Then Loki’s hand was cupping his cheek, his thumb idly wiping away stray tears as he lifted his face to give him a warm smile. It was comforting – More than comforting – and Tony wanted to thank him for always being there, and gods, their lips were so close, if he just tilted his head and moved forward a bit they’d be touching and, oh.
Loki had been the one to move, pressing his soft lips against Tony’s, his thumb still insistently stroking his cheek. It was warm and pleasant and a little messy and absolutely, stunningly perfect.
But it was over too soon. Loki was pulling away with that look; the same one he’d worn the last time he’d kissed the other. Tony read it as guilt, with just a hint of regret mixed in. It made his gut lurch uncomfortably. He reached out and wrapped his arms around the taller man, pulling him close and hugging him in what he hoped was a comforting manner. He must’ve done well, because Loki seemed to melt against him rather quickly.
“New Hampshire.” He mumbled against ivory flesh, “Let’s go to New Hampshire.”
Loki chuckled and Tony could feel the vibrations echo down his arms. “I wasn’t aware there was anything in New Hampshire.”
“You kidding? This time of year? Everything is in New Hampshire. The leaves are changing colors; looks like the whole state is on fire.” Loki ‘hmm’d’ quietly, taking this opportunity to wrap his own arms around Tony, “Come on, reindeer games, go to New Hampshire with me. It’s not New York.”
The man stiffened a little at the nickname, pulling back to smile at Tony, “Reindeer Games?”
“I, uh, called you that… In my dream.”
There was another musical chuckle, a quick nod, and then, “Alright. Fine, we’ll go to New Hampshire.”
“Woohoo! Ok, so, I guess I should call work, and tell them I’m going to be away. Oh, and I’ll call Natasha—“
“Natasha?”
“Therapist”
“Heh..”
“And ask her to cover for me if anyone asks—“
“Sneaky.”
“Pack, leave Jarvis with the Bartons..”
"Bartons?"
“Neighbors, Clint and Barney. I think they’re carnies? Either that or they’ve got really bizarre tastes in fashion. Anyway, how about I meet you back here when you’re done packing?”
“Err… Yes. Alright.”
They parted and left the bathroom, and Tony immediately got to work; calling various people while simultaneously packing. He gave Loki a quick kiss before the other left. After that he managed to pack, unpack, and repack again at least three times. Getting frustrated, he decided to temporarily ignore the pack and bring Jarvis next door. The cat wasn’t entirely fond of the neighbors, but they loved having him.
The door opened before he’d even knocked, as was habit, and the younger of the brothers stood before Tony in his usual purple and black leather pants.
“One of these days I’ll figure out how you do that.” Tony mumbled.
“I just stand here and watch you through the peephole. I probably have a huge crush on you and this is the only thing that keeps me from sneaking into your apartment and molesting you while you sleep,” was Clint’s dry response.
“That’s all true,” Barney said, wandering towards the door. “Ooh, cat!”
“Alright, buying more locks for my door. I’ll be gone until Sunday. Be good for your gay uncles, Jarvy.”
“We’re brothers, you twat!”
“Doesn’t mean you’re not gay, you homophobe.” Tony called back as he headed into his apartment.
When he was finished packing (after another fifteen minutes of un/re-packing) he collected his bags and headed out the door. Loki had yet to show up, but Tony figured he could meet him on the stairs or at the front door.
However, Loki was already at the front door when he got there, curiously devoid of luggage and staring at a sleek black car parked in front of him. Three men stepped out – one elder man with salt and pepper hair, and two young men in scrubs – and slowly started moving towards Loki.
“Lucas,” The graying man said, taking another cautious step forward, “You need to come with me, now.”
Tony dropped his luggage in the hall and walked out to stand by Loki, whose confusion was clear on his face.
“Oh, Lucas, you’ve made a friend. Have you told him, yet?” the man continued. He had a thick German accent that Tony desperately wanted to recognize.
“Told me what?” Tony looked at Loki who remained silent, his brow furrowing. “Loki?”
The man tutted, “I suppose not, then. His name is not Loki. It is Lucas. He’s very ill, and he needs to get back to the hospital for treatments.”
“Sick?” Tony didn’t like the connotation that accompanied that, “Sick how?”
The man simply turned to Loki. When he did not respond, the man did so for him, “Mental illness. He believes he is the Norse god of mischief. He thinks there are superheroes and villains, et cetera, et cetera. He can be very dangerous, though, so it would be best if he came willingly.”
“Wait, wait…” Tony held a hand up, then pushed it through his thick hair. “You’re saying that he’s… He’s crazy.”
“We don’t like to label it such, bu—“
“Tony, please, this is some sort of trick!” Tony looked at Loki, trying to read his face, but finding himself unable – perhaps even unwilling.
“Is that why you wanted to leave so bad? To hide from… From—“ He waved his arm half-heartedly at the men, “—This?”
Loki reached out and took Tony’s hand, his eyes pleading, “No, Tony, no! Please think! Remember the tower!”
The men had stepped into action then, readying a needle, and surging towards Loki. The two nurses grabbed his arms and held him steady as the elder man plunged the needle into his upper arm. After a moment, Loki went limp, his hand slipping from Tony’s.
“Very, sorry about that. Couldn’t risk him becoming violent again.”
The men carried Loki to the car, as the suited man handed Tony a business card (Erik Selvigg, MD, PhD 555-8394). He nodded once, and slipped into the passenger seat, his face hidden by the tinted windows. The car sped off before Tony had fully comprehended the situation.