Chapter Text
Tony took another leisurely sip of his scotch while staring out over the beautiful ocean.
The Avengers were all back at the Tower in New York, had been since the alien invasion thing. They had just kind of up and moved into his home. He didn’t really mind, nor would he have refused had Fury decided to ask him, though he might have been a bit difficult about it. Bruce had actually asked, apparently feeling bad about just taking his generosity for granted. It was one of the many things that Tony liked about the man. Despite not really minding though, it was a lot of people who were suddenly spending time around him, people he didn’t entirely trust or want in his lab or near his things. Every once in awhile, he needed a break.
Fortunately, he still had his Malibu house, which was where he was now. It was nice being there on his own except for Jarvis. Granted, when he was alone he tended to miss Pepper more, but it was worth it for the security. He didn’t have to watch his back when no one else was around, and it was, at least temporarily, worth the price of loneliness.
“Hey, Jarvis, what’s the time?”
“Approximately seven fifty-eight pm, Sir.”
Tony hummed softly in response, still watching the gently rolling waves for several moments, his mind soothed by the sight.
“Sir, it appears there’s someone at the front door.”
Tony arched an eyebrow at nothing. “How did they get through security?”
“I. . . don’t know, Sir. It seems he simply materialized out of thin air.”
“Who is it?”
“The cameras are distorted around him; I cannot get a positive identity.”
Tony grabbed the homing bracelets for one of his suits and then headed towards the door. “Get the suits ready, J, just in case.” He wasn’t really concerned. After all, he had an army of metal men that could be run by Jarvis and activated at a moment’s notice, and the intruder was probably some teenager who had been dared to run out and see who lived in the massive mansion on the coast. Still, it never hurt to be prepared.
“Yes, Sir.”
He opened the front door lazily, eyes scanning the area for an enemy even while his posed remained fairly relaxed. He saw no one.
Tony frowned, taking another step forward so that he could see better, only to suddenly jerk his eyes downward in shock as his foot ran into something hard and heavy on the doorstep.
At first, all he could see was green and black leather, but, really, that itself told him all he needed to know. Upon closer examination, he could make out the shape of a slim figure slumped over on its side in the small area sheltered by the door. Lanky legs were twisted at odd angles that belayed the bones jutting out from the skin. Arms were lying uselessly in front of the torso, and the head, curtained by waves of tangled, matted black hair, was resting against the wooden doorframe.
As Tony stared in shock, the head rolled backwards further, and dull, lifeless green eyes met his, yet no words came from that silken mouth because it was covered by a metal gag not unlike the one worn by this same figure when Tony had seen him last almost nine months previously.
“Loki,” he whispered the name through a suddenly raw throat, staring down at the Trickster God. He was the god who had thrown him from a window and rained down hellfire on New York. He was the god who had murdered Phil Coulsen without regard, piercing him through with his glowstick of destiny. He was the god who had walked into a gala and subsequently murdered a man in cold blood. He was the god who had walked through a portal with delusions of grandeur, who wanted to enslave the entire human race. He was the bad guy, plain and simple.
If only things had ever been so black and white.
“Sir, would you like me to contact the Avengers?”
Jarvis’ voice was quiet, yet it still made Tony jump. He took a shaky breath. “No. Not right now.”
He knelt next to Loki, gently laying a hand on his shoulder and trying to ignore the way the god flinched away from him at the contact. “Loki?” he murmured softly, utterly uncertain about what to do.
A hint of light entered those emerald eyes and a soft whimper came from behind the mask. There was a pleading look in those eyes now, and Tony exhaled softly.
“Okay, hold on. I’m going to try and pick you up, alright?” As carefully as he could, Tony scooped up the god in bridal style. Though he was quite dense, he seemed considerably lighter than he should have been. This was confirmed by the fact that Tony could feel the god’s ribs through his leather coat and torn clothes as he moved him to one of the guest rooms.
Loki’s hand clenched tightly in Tony’s shirt while they walked, and though Tony was as careful as he could be, occasionally a soft whimper would slip through the god’s bound lips. Each time the muted sound made Tony wince.
Finally, he was able to set Loki down in one of the guest bedrooms, laying him carefully on top of the covers.
The god’s eyes had fluttered shut, and his eyes roamed restlessly under the half-closed eyelids.
Tony gently ran a hand through Loki’s hair, and almost immediately his motions stilled and he fell into a deeper sleep.
Now that he was resting, Tony took a moment to look more carefully at his broken body. Loki’s legs were broken in several places, so twisted about that Tony was honestly uncertain where, exactly, everything was supposed to go in the first place. He couldn’t see the god’s ribs, but it would have been quite the stretch of the imagination to think that they weren’t broken as well. In fact, Tony really couldn’t see most of the injuries, but he knew there had to be more.
Deciding to do what he could for the moment, Tony ran his hands around the gag that covered the god’s mouth, looking for some way to release it. There seemed to be some form of trigger in the middle on the outside edge, and he carefully pressed down and pulled it away from Loki’s face. With that done, he looked down at the god with sorrowful eyes. What should he do? Turn him into Shield? the Avengers? Was there really any guarantee that either one would treat him better than Asgard had?
“Anthony,” Loki whispered, the name slipping through recently freed lips, and there was no mistaking the pleading in his tone.
Tony sighed heavily. He never had been able to resist his god’s begging.