The Sweet Escape

The room was dark and damp, and the stale air smelled like mold and bodily fluids. There lay a man with raven hair, emerald eyes, and an ashen complexion which had once been a colour like fine marble. He had many injuries now, which he had received prior to and during being forced into this room.

Pain from his chest made his breath come in short panting wheezes. He definitely had a broken rib and several wounds. He could feel the pieces of bone move every time he breathed. Still, it was not one of the worst wounds he’d collected in his years, especially while hunting with Thor. He only had to make sure it healed enough before it punctured a lung. His magic was slowly knitting the bones, organs and flesh back together. He’d accumulated many, which left him all but drained.

It hadn’t helped that he’d used so much of it to try not to be captured. Fear and panic had clawed at him as the act of teleporting away became harder. His magic, sensing his turmoil, tried to help but over compensated. It moved with too much force too quickly, leaving his back exposed. The energy round of the ray gun hit him square in the back mid teleportation. Loki had the wind knocked from him and was captured. Everything went black.

He had noticed the low stores of magic soon after that and decided it was best to conserve his energy and magic for when he really needed it.

Head tilting, eyes closing, he listened. Either he had actually heard something or that chill creeping up his spine was paranoia. Something he had gained once he had been captured after falling from the rainbow bridge was a strong sensitivity to his surroundings. The enemy may come and finish him off.

His body tensed at the commotion coming down the corridor. A loud bang ricocheted off the walls; it was almost deafening. The first sound he recognised was the unwilling scuffling of feet, like a rasp of what seemed to be shoes sliding and stuttering across the floor. Then, muffled cries of anger, and an odd thud -what one could assume was only something hitting something flesh- echoed through the halls. The noises stopped in front of the cell door. The wounded god was happy he was off in the darkest reaches of the cell, knowing that soon he would no longer be alone. The noises were all too familiar to him. They threatened to bring him back to a place that he didn't want to be brought back to.

The muffled pleas got louder when the door opened, and a smallish figure was launched into the room. He skidded across the floor. Two heavily clad guards huddled over the prisoner and unbound him. The guards got up and hit the prisoner with the butt of their ray gun. He yelped. They had kicked him in the abdomen, ensuring that he wouldn’t be getting up and trying to fight for his escape as they left. Once happy with themselves, they left with a slam of the door. The prisoner took the rolled fabric gag from his mouth and rubbed his jaw, wheezing. The wind had been knocked out of him when he’d been launched into the cell.

Off in the shadows, the wounded prisoner noticed the newcomer had dark short hair, olive skin and … oh by the Norns, not the glowing light, the one that thwarted him. That very man who wasn’t able to be controlled by the staff he was given by the Other when he had been burdened with that dratted task for Thanos! It would be his own luck that he’d be captured with someone who couldn’t keep his mouth shut!

He watched Stark peel himself up off the floor and brush himself off. He had seen him protecting his vital organs when the guard started to rough him up. ‘Damned mortals and their fragility. Well, it was a blessing in some cases’ the god thought to himself. The newcomer was trying to get air back into his lungs. He was gripping the fabric over his chest with his right hand like he needed something to hold onto as he doubled over. Wheezing and hacking sounds filled the room, a good sign that the mortal was now breathing again.

“Damn assholes,” Tony muttered loud enough to be overheard, then righted himself. Loki watched Stark’s breathing better as he looked around at the smallish cell that they were cooped up in. The little glowing thing in the man's chest helped him to decently maneuver through the room. But it didn't keep him from stumbling over uneven ground or stones of different sizes strewn about the floor. Loki was aware of the not so pleasant aromas in the room. The mortal was sniffling awkwardly from the damp mildew and of the burning of the ammonia where he currently was.

As the other shuffled around with his arms outstretched, he stayed hidden. Loki didn't want to have to deal with him wandering about in in front of him, as he was safely in his dark corner. Stark was getting twitchy. He felt joy at the others uneasiness. Still, Loki knew he’d have to make his presence known or things could go weird or bad for them both if he left it alone.

“Stark,” he said. His voice was raspy and deep from lack of use. He more than likely had bruises around his throat from booted feet and maybe some hands. The other man jumped, right hand moving straight out and the left bracing it as if he had the repulsors at the ready, confusion evident on his face. He turned to where he thought the voice came from

“Uh, hello?” Tony said.

“Stark.” He paused and cleared his throat. “Stay where you are and-” A surge of pain came over him. He tried to steady himself. “...and, leave me be.” How hoarse his voice was! Damn this place. Huffs of air passed his dry lips in frustration. Well, it didn't matter what the mortal thought or did to entertain himself, so long as he left Loki in peace.

Loki rested his head against the wall. It was cool to the touch and helped numb the pain at the bump he had there. His thoughts drifted. Although, that one would look very pleasing if he entertained Loki by… Not the time for such fantasies! He hissed at the inadvertent movement he had made. The broken ribs were doing a fantastic job at hindering him. He could only hope the bumbling idiot disregarded what weaknesses he thought he heard.

Stark quirked an eyebrow. Ah, he had heard. How bothersome.

Then, the mortal started as if something had clicked into place in his tiny brain. His brows furrowed, and he looked about the room. Of course. He was trying to pinpoint where Loki’s voice was. Even though he didn't want to be found, he couldn't help but admire that clever thought.

“So, I’m not alone in this cell. Which could mean one of two things. Either you’ve been brought in for some ability or another… Orrr you’re a baddy that had done something to piss them off?” He smirked. “I do believe it might indeed be the latter,” Tony said.

He scoffed and rolled his eyes, not rising to the bait. Loki’s body felt like lead due to his magic working overtime while using his energy. Taking a mental stock of injuries, Loki concluded that he hadn’t been in the cell long. His breathing was shallow; other parts of his body felt much to raw to have been left long to heal. He had been woken by unfathomable pain before gaining company in the dank, putrid, smelly hole in the wall they were in.

How long had he been there? He could still smell singed hair and skin, and his breathing wasn’t very well off so… Just how long had he been there, if long at all? The sound of sneakers quietened in the background, but continued to move around the room dimly shone cool blue light onto the uneven floor with rocks and pebbles strewn about. He frowned at how much time he’d lost. He looked at the ground, noting the dried blood there. He wasn't going to bleed out. His magic was there, but slowly recharging. At least there was that.

A pebble hit him in the shoulder, which made him jerk suddenly. He looked up to see that the mortal had moved closer. Narrowing his eyes, he said, “Do you not understand what I have asked? No, you’re just a feeble mortal. Of course you wouldn’t know any better, with the pea sized brains that you all have. You’re not even as evolved as you seem to think you are. Ants in comparison to someone like myself.” Plucking the pebble up from where it had fallen, he chucked it back. The pebble soared through the air and thwacked him in the shoulder rather hard.

“What is the big idea?! Why are you throwing shit at me?” Tony exclaimed. He rubbed the spot that had been hit; he had forgotten about the rather insulting comment. Loki smirked that he was still able to get back at the other, even in his state. Not like he wouldn’t have done so some time later, but he’d rather not appear weak to anyone, let alone Stark.

Turning his head to look at the visitor once more, he said gruffly, “I had asked for you to stay on your side of the blasted room, and yet you did what you wanted, regardless.” He had to get away. He tried to fold his knees under himself and stand up, but his legs betrayed him. Suddenly, there were hands under his shoulder. Tony had dashed over to stabilize him, and now he was carrying most of his weight.
“Whoa there. Are you alright?”

Loki grumbled. He pushed feebly at the helping arms. If the mortal would just get away before he succumbed to his wounds in front of him! Why must he be so weak; he just wanted solitude. He had an image to uphold, and he couldn’t keep it up if he was bleeding from the smaller gashes, cracked ribs and the other injuries. Strong fingers gripped onto Loki so he wouldn’t make them collapse with his feeble attempts to escape. Loki continued to struggle, using all of his dwindling strength to hide his face from the other as best as he could.

“Hey now, don’t worry. You’ll be alright.” Tony’s hand reached upwards slowly to move the sheet of black hair from the others face. Tony gasped and tensed, realizing who he was holding close.

“Like what you see, Stark? Or have you figured out who I am and your mind is supplying different ways of how I’d kill you from this position?” he sneered. Loki ignored his pain and tilted his head up just enough that he could glare. “You couldn’t leave it well enough alone could you?” he said curtly. To which he was unceremoniously dropped as the arm holding around his waist was taken away.

“ L-loki?!” Tony backed away a few steps, all the while looking at the crumpled pile on the floor, the wounded god he’d let go of. Loki pushed himself to his knees, using both palms on the ground as leverage. Sweat beaded on his brow as he panted.

Loki was concentrating on the drip drop sound of water that could be heard somewhere in the room, using it as a way to get his focus on his breathing and not on all the additional pain from being dumped onto the floor. The water coming through the walls could have arrived from a number of ways… He felt a warm trickle down his skin- blood from a newly closed wound he had just torn. No, no point thinking about that. Perhaps they could figure out where they were if they knew more about the source of the water...

Tony once again dashed towards Loki and wrapped an arm around the others waist. He grabbed Loki's arm and threw it over his shoulders. Then, he used his leg muscles to lift Loki up. At least now he was back to a sitting position.Tony positioned himself within speaking distance.
“Do you know how badly you’re injured?” He peered down at Loki.

A wheezy sounding chuckle sounded in the room. “Stark, why are you even bothering with someone like me? I did try to destroy your little city, and I did throw you from your window.”

He sat down beside the injured Loki so he wouldn't stare and propped himself up against a broken wall. Loki settled a little upon seeing Stark sitting down and no longer hovering above him. He once again focused on slowing his breathing down so they weren’t wreaking havoc on the injuries to the torso

“Look, Loki, we need to work together. You try and get yourself fixed in some way that you god people do, and I’ll try and see what we’re up against. They’re more than likely to come back and soon,” he sighed. Tony brought his knees up and used them to place his elbows as a stand. One of his hands went to his head while leaning forwards in what appeared to be thought “ Look this could happen one of many ways. They either want me to build something, or they could torture me, as many villians seem to want to do. I don't know why,” he said, chuckling lightly. Footsteps were coming down the hall once more; he glared at the door. “Think about it Reindeer games. We’ll need each other to get out of this shit hole.” Loki worked the words of the mortal over but stopped momentarily, hearing once more the dull sound of heavy footfalls coming down the hall.

He closed his eyes, pushing away both the sound of feet coming and the clumsy figure to his right. He went back to assessing his wounds, noting that things were only made a little worse when he was unceremoniously dropped to the floor. His eyes were burning from exhaustion, so he closed them. He’d been awake for much too long and needed to rest for a moment. As exhaustion took over his body, he succumbed to the darkness.