//I am a man at war
And I am fighting for
All of the broken people
All of the people thrown overboard
They always tried to shame us
But they don't speak the language
No we're not nameless, we're not faceless
We were born for greatness//
The music blared overly loud as Loki appeared silently just outside the lab, bass pounding in his ears, almost too loud for thought.
Almost.
His eyes sorted through the destruction that had been wrought in the lab, past overturned tables and thrown tools, over broken machinery and scratched paint, through the shattered glass windows, until they landed on the broken, hunched figure sitting curled on the one piece of furniture that had remained untouched, the eerie blue light of holograms surrounding them on all sides giving them an almost ethereal look, fingers rapidly tapping a harsh beat against the glowing keyboard hovering in front of them, all focus solely on the information before them; absorbing, manipulating, grieving.
And still Loki kept himself shrouded, shards of glass not even crunching underfoot as he made his way soundlessly forward, flinching slightly as the music grew in tempo.
//somebody sound the alarm
(Oh, oh oh) a fire was set in the dark
(Oh, oh oh) it's time that you know
No, we're not nameless, we're not faceless
We were born for greatness//
He found himself standing invisibly in front of Anthony, watching as the mad inventor muttered to himself, eyes heavily shadowed and bloodshot, scarcely blinking as his eyes danced between the many different screens, trembling fingers occasionally making their way forward to pull up a different tab or make a quick shift to a different set of data, shoulders tense yet sagging beneath the weight he put upon them.
Loki almost, almost , could not resist the temptation to touch, to give away his illusion if only he could soothe away the terse lines of Anthony’s mouth, the tracks through dirt and grime where tears had long stopped falling, the plump bottom lip bitten red and raw; to press his fingers into the lines of knotted muscle at Anthony’s back, to draw forth far more delicious sounds than the ragged, harsh breath the mad inventor occasionally paused to let out in a cool, gusty sigh.
Almost, but Loki caught himself at the last moment, moving silently behind Anthony to better see what he did, wincing once he caught sight of the pictures playing across one of the smaller screens hovering at the corner of Anthony’s peripheral.
//It doesn't matter if the world has gone mad
If we just hold on, if we just hold on yeah
The sky is falling and the world has gone mad
And we sing our songs, and we just hold on yeah
So if you're running, stop running
One life, one chance, start living
Sing it louder just to let the world know
No, we're not nameless, we're not faceless
We were born for greatness//
The children, Loki could see clearly, despite the shaky grip of the camera’s holder; their small, terrified faces and trembling bodies; a flash of red and gold as Ironman’s suit shot towards them just as the bomb went off and the camera’s view shuttered, caught scarlet liquid and an agonized, slightly mechanized scream, just before static took over and it went dark; too late, too late, too late .
And then it began again.
Loki’s head darted sharply over to Anthony as he heard a muffled curse fall from the inventors lips, only in time to see the others eyes move quickly back to his work, tears shining anew but not falling, not now, for Anthony was far too stubborn to allow himself to cry again.
The first time had been shortly after the blast itself, with Loki’s arms wound around him in a grounding embrace and the god whispering words of comfort and destruction in his lovers ear, vowing flay the skin from the men and women who caused the blast, urging the inventor to understand it was not his fault .
//They say that I'm reckless
Because I'm relentless
They spit on my face, and curse on my name
They're taking my life in vengeance
Yeah, you can try and blame us
And try to take what's sacred
But we're not nameless, we're not faceless
We were born for greatness//
Anthony had been, of course, far too hurt and far too angry to believe a word that fell from the gods lips, as was his nature; instead, Anthony drew himself together, fixed the bomb site and the blown apart bodies with an empty stare mere seconds before determination ignited in his gaze and he stepped back, the suit folding itself around him and he took off into the air without so much as a word uttered to the other heroes that had come to surround him; some with words of horror, some with accusations, others with comfort.
Loki had stayed. Of course he had; he couldn’t very well leave the mess unattended, and he knew his magic would be of far more value here than it would be with his distraught lover.
Only when the site had been cleaned, the recovered bodies buried and parents notified had Loki finally allowed himself to find his lover, his own heart heavy in his chest with a familiar grief he had not felt in a very long time; Anthony, however, was faring much worse and his attempts to fix , as he was so very good at, only lead him to where he was now, in pain and exhausted but fighting, searching, finding ; anyone who had been even partially responsible for yesterday's bombing would not remain outside his reach for long.
//somebody sound the alarm
(Oh, oh oh) a fire was set in the dark
(Oh, oh oh) it's time that you know
No we're not nameless, we're not faceless
We were born for greatness//
As was Anthony’s nature, he piled their deaths upon his own shoulders, bared their weight with as much dignity and grace as a man who shouldered faults that were not his own possibly could.
Loki knew this; he had been with Anthony long enough to learn everything there was to learn about his character; his penchant to take blame for others actions that he had no control over; his desperate, hindering fear of failure in the eyes of those he held in his closest regards due to his own past mistakes that lead him to make hasty action in hopes to rectify those mistakes and prevent future ones; the crippling self doubt only a showman the likes of himself could possibly hide; and most of all, the bone deep, fear addled, debilitating need to rest that he could not, would not, under any circumstances, allow himself…as was the life of a hero- something he was not because of the armor he wore or the enhancements they gave him, not because of his genius or his technology, not even because he had destroyed an army almost at the cost of his own life; Anthony Stark was a hero because of the good that radiated from him despite his disbelief; because of the fire in his veins and the sparks in his eyes; because his will to survive was almost as strong as his will to protect.
Because Anthony Stark emerged from a cave in a suit of armor created from a box of broken scraps; he had no powers, no gifts, no faith and no god; he had only himself, and he strove to be better than his mistakes, to grow, to evolve, with nothing more than the blue glow of his heart, his conscience, and his own two hands to pull him from the darkness.
A self made hero.
A hero he did not see himself to be.
//It doesn't matter if the world has gone mad
If we just hold on, if we just hold on yeah
The sky is falling and the world has gone mad
And we sing our songs, and we just hold on yeah
So if you're running, stop running
One life, one chance, start living
Sing it louder just to let the world know
No we're not nameless, we're not faceless
We were born for greatness//
In time, Loki would convince him.
Later, when the fear and the panic receded, as did the need for revenge, Loki would lay him down and worship him with everything a god could possibly give a mortal man; later, Loki would hold his lover close and whisper sweet promises in his ear about golden apples and eternities, and Anthony would tremble in his grip, whether from laughter or tears neither would know, and pull forth a small velvet box; later, Loki would cradle his life, love and happiness to his chest as they made love with the sun setting over the city Anthony had saved, and they would be content; and perhaps, as time wore on and the grief faded, and the joy of their union truly set in, happy .
But for now, Loki watched as Anthony stood decisively, his newly repaired armor closing around him, all traces of fear and pain gone from his gaze but instead replaced with pure, unadulterated rage that ignited his eyes like explosions and fire and gunshots, brighter than the blue star glow of his heart and hotter than the desert sands from which he built himself.
Loki revealed himself, then; stepped forward and placed a delicate kiss upon his lovers lips, relishing in the heat of his love for just a moment, his own eyes glowing like jewels to match the passion lighting up Anthony’s as their gazes met, understanding passing between them as silently and easily as their kiss, just before Loki stepped back and slipped the helmet upon his lovers head, watching as the hero shot off into the sky with a list of names and coordinates flashing across the screen of his helmet and music fading into silence with final words that had never been sung truer, a trail of blue-fire marking his path and a swirl of emerald green dancing alongside him, following the cyanic light, as it always would.
//It doesn't matter if the world has gone mad
If we just hold on, if we just hold on yeah
Sing it louder just to let the world know
We were born for greatness
No we're not nameless, we're not faceless
We were born for greatness//