Avengers 1. Prologue

- Hello. So this is my second long-running fanfiction ever. The updates will be slower than Boreal Involvement, since that is still going strong.

**Somes notes:**  
This is very off-the-map from any of the story lines. AKA AU. If that doesn't interest you, please feel free to move along.

**Warnings: There will be graphic scenes and some unsettling flashbacks.**

**DISCLAIMER: I own no rights to the characters. All rights belong to Marvel.**

* * *

**Epilogue**

* * *

Loki could almost remember the way through the many gates leading to the Intake Office. He had only been there once before, back when he was fourteen. He was a little surprised he could remember something from nine years ago. It hadn't been a pleasant time, considering he was being forced out of the city against his will.  
After waiting in line for what seemed like hours, Loki took the slew of written tests needed to get a city ID. He was surprised at how easy the questions were, and how easily he could lie. The bio-tests, however, were harder to deal with.

Loki bit his lip hard, undressing in front of the two men in their white lab coats. When the doctors reached out to check his body, it took all of his effort not to flinch away or scream. After two years, he still couldn't stand being touched. When was he going to get over it? When did he get to move on?

"Stand still," directed the second doctor, pulling down a scanner from the ceiling. Loki tensed and closed his eyes, forcing himself to stop shivering.

Pretend no one's there. It's just like swimming in the lake. Swimming under the sun.

"You have a lot of scars," commented the first doctor, his fingers tracing the largest one down Loki's back. Loki flinched and nodded silently.

"We have to do a 3D scan for our files. Since you have so many, it's going to take a little while."

"I understand," Loki responded, keeping his eyes closed.

Swimming. Floating in a pool filled with sky. Amora laughing from the shore.

"You're all set. Get dressed and head out to the ID office."

"Thank you," Loki mumbled, grabbing his clothes and quickly stuffing his head through the shirt. He rushed out of the room, feeling like a freed animal. After twenty minutes of wandering the halls, he finally found the sign for the ID office. It was at the end of a long skinny hallway and it was pointing up.

"Uh... okay?"

Looking down, he spotted what could only be called an ominous 'x' on the floor in front of the sign. Loki shifted from one foot to the other, debating whether or not it was a trap.  
Loki knew he could move quickly enough to get out of the way if anything fell, and he had long enough legs to jump if the floor gave way. He scowled, and took a brave step forward.  
A panel in the ceiling slide aside, and he instantly shot up through a tunnel. The rushing column of air nearly tore his bag from his grip. He spun wildly upward through the shaft, his elbows carelessly buffeted into the walls by the ferocity of the wind currents. With an effort, he finally pulled his arms down to his sides, and squeezed his eyes shut for the remainder of the journey.

There was a sucking sound when he shot out of the tunnel into open air of the rooftop. Loki squinted at the bright city lights, rubbing his bruised elbows in irritation.

"It sucks. Literally."

"Excuse me?" Loki muttered, approaching the kiosk from which the voice had spoken.

"The shaft," the man answered, grinning up at Loki from his seat. "It sucks. I swear I hit something every time I use it. They took out the stairs last year after some old lady sued them for falling down."

Loki snorted and shifted his bag to get out the paper work he needed. "I'm surprised no one has sued them for breaking a leg in there."

"I'll be the first, count on it," the man said with a laugh, taking the papers as they were handed to him. Loki smiled nervously at him, trying not to stare too much.

He was far too handsome to be some intake clerk. He had soft brown hair, just long enough to flip over to the side. He was sporting an interesting goatee that Loki was immediately tempted to shave off. What caught his attention most, were the man's eyes. He was clearly older than Loki, maybe mid thirties. But his eyes sparkled with humor and life.

No one should be this happy working in this kind of job. Loki mused at the prospects of his future workplace. He doubted he could keep a smile on his face for very long.

"Do you need starter credits?" the man asked without looking up from the paper work he was furiously filling out.

Loki frowned, not sure what he meant. "I don't know. I haven't been here in a really long time."

"That's okay. I'll just do it," the man said, looking up at Loki once more. "You're from the Waste Lands?"

"Yes..."

"Why'd you leave Asgard?" he asked Loki, an eyebrow raised. "From what I hear, it's rough out there."

Loki shifted uncomfortably and looked down at his heavily worn-out boots. He responded quietly, "I was forced to leave."

"Were you convicted? Because we don't have any record of that. It just says you left by order of The Three."

Loki glanced up and give him a bitter smile, silently wishing him to stop asking about it. The man clearly missed the message and waited for an answer.

"No, I wasn't convicted of anything," Loki said, his irritation growing. The guy was cute, but his personality was growing stale. "My father threw me out of my home, and out of Asgard."

The clerk sat up straighter, a strange look flashing across his face. "What the hell? Why?"

"I am not allowed to speak of it," Loki said with a scowl.

"Did you hurt someone?"

"No!" Loki hissed. His eyes went wide for a moment, shrinking back from the desk as his anger dissipated. "I just... I kissed someone I wasn't supposed to."

The bearded man stood up and came out of the kiosk. Loki tensed, slipping a hand into his pocket to grip the knife he had hidden away. The man sighed and leaned against the wall, crossing his arms and looking Loki up and down. It was clearly not a hostile position.

"You got kicked out into the fucking Waste Lands cuz you kissed someone?"

Loki released his grip on the knife and flushed, looking down at his feet again. "It was not just someone... It was a-a boy."

"So?"

"S-so?!" Loki snapped his head up. He wasn't expecting such a calm response. At the least a sneer, or harsh laughter. The clerk just stood there, looking unimpressed.

"You kissed a guy?" He asked. "So what? How old were you, anyway?"

"I was fourteen at the time."

The man hummed and looked Loki over once more. "Why did you come back?"

Loki smiled widely for the first time since he entered the city. Finally, something he was more willing to talk about. "My old friend invited me back for a visit. I just got his letter last week."

"That's sweet," the man replied, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. Loki frowned and watched him re-enter the kiosk to stamp some papers in a rough manner. Loki couldn't figure out why his manner had changed so abruptly. Anger after hearing of his indiscretion would make sense, not after the good news.

"Here," the clerk said, holding up a card and a few papers. Loki smiled weakly and stashed them away in his back pocket. He hefted his bag and thanked the man once more, turning to head through the final gate into the city.

"Hey!"

Loki stopped, turning to see what the clerk wanted.

"Do you have any place to stay?"

Loki frowned. Why did he care? "I'll be staying with my friend."

The guy frowned at him for a minute before ducking back into the office. A second later he ran out and shoved a scrap of paper into Loki's hand.

"What is this?" he asked, unfolding it to see a string of numbers.

"My phone number. I'm not being creepy, I'm just kinda worried since you haven't been here so long and a lot's changed in nine years. Just call me if you're in trouble." He flashed a grin. "Or come back to the office. I'm here almost every day from six till eight."

"I'll be fine. He isn't that far away from here."

The man frowned again, starting to look irritated. "He doesn't live in the Copper Sector, does he?" he asked.

"I don't see how that's any of your―"

"Oh shit, he does doesn't he? God dammit!" the man snapped. He cracked his back with some more colorful language, looking up as a small craft flew over head. He continued, his voice quieter, "I'll come with you to his house. Okay?"

"Why are you being so nice?" Loki asked, his fingers caressing his knife once again. "No offense, but, my friend told me not to trust government workers."

The guy huffed with laughter, tearing his gaze from the ship. "He doesn't mean me," he said, jerking a thumb at the sky. "He means those guys,"

Loki looked up and frowned. "Who?"

"Oh dear Gods, you're gonna get yourself killed."

Loki scoffed, letting go of the knife to cross his arms. "I am not completely incapable you know," he said, trying to sound more threatening than he actually felt. "I had to defend myself my entire life out in the Waste Lands "

"That's not the point," the man answered sadly. "The point is, here, they don't fight fair. They decide to fuck with you and you try to fight back? They make it so no one ever hears from you again." His eyes went cold, no hint of amusement left. "Look, why don't you just wait a few more minutes. I'll see if I can get off early and I will gladly escort you to your friend's house. Deal?"

Loki frowned. The man had grown more quiet as they talked. The warm laughter and smiles were lost, replaced by dark, pain filled eyes and a tense jaw.

"I do not even know your name..."

The man instantly grinned, his eyes lighting up again as if he was never morose to begin with. "The name's Tony. Tony Stark!" He stuck out a hand to shake Loki's.

Loki felt a smile creep into his face. Tony's moods seemed to be infectious. "Nice to meet you, Stark. My name is Loki, Loki Laufeyson," he replied, shaking the rough, callused hand.

Tony raised an eyebrow. "Laufeyson? You mean the leader of the Vengeful Raiders?"

"The what?" Loki asked, snorting at the name.

"That's what the city folk call them," Tony said with a smirk. "I somehow doubted that's what you guys actually called yourselves."

"We certainly did not."

"So you're Laufeyson's son? Does this make you a pirate?"

"No, and no," Loki answered, looking a little amused at the thought. "We were more like community leaders."

Tony hummed and tilted his head. "You said your father was from here?"

"I was adopted by Laufeyson. I consider him my father."

Tony nodded knowingly and turned abruptly to scuttle back into the kiosk. Loki watched, confused at the sudden end of the conversation. He felt exhausted already just from talking to the man for a few minutes. The lights flicked off and the door slammed shut, Tony quickly locked it behind him.

He came rushing back over to Loki. "Ready to go?" Tony asked cheerfully, wrapping a scarf around his neck.

Loki frowned and looked down at the stranger. People in the Waste Lands never offered help without a price. Loki couldn't see what Stark would possibly gain by helping him out. He knew Loki didn't have any money.

"You do not need to do all this for me," he said quietly.

"Yeah I do," Tony responded, looking up at Loki. The pain returning to those lovely brown eyes.  
"Because I really don't want to see you dead."

* * *

**Edited!**

**[ I'm still going over my most recent chapter of BI.] **

**Thanks for reading! **


	2. Tread Lightly

"Who are you?"

"I just introduced myself, like, ten minutes ago," Tony replied, taking a sharp turn down another dark alleyway. Loki pretended he didn't notice that the man always preceded him when they entered a new street. It was sweet, but unnecessary. Considering that Loki had been looking out for himself in the Waste Lands for years, a little brawl in the city was nothing he couldn't handle. Still, having such a shining night in armor – even a short one – wasn't so bad.

"I mean," Loki said, coming out of his thoughts as they stepped out of the alley, you don't seem like just some desk clerk. For one thing, you have way too much charisma."

Tony turned and started walking backwards, his hand over his heart. "That's the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me." He spun around, keeping a steady pace in front of Loki. "I'm an inventor, of sorts."

"What do you invent?"

"Stuff. You've probably never heard of any of them." Tony snorted and glanced over his shoulder. "Do you even have technology out in the Waste Lands?

"Of course we have tech."

"I hate to break it to you," Tony responded seriously. "But wood stoves don't count."

Loki stopped and glared at the man's back. "Are you going to continue being rude, or can we proceed on in silence?"

Tony turned around, genuinely surprised. He scuttled back to Loki, frowning. "I didn't mean to insult you or anything. It's just a joke."

"I don't find it that amusing."

"You can pick on the city folk, if it makes you feel any better."

Loki scoffed, raising an eyebrow. "You don't seem to hold them in very high regards either," he said.

"Hey, I never said I don't respect the Waste Landers. It seriously was just a joke."

Loki tilted his head, weighing his options. On one hand, Tony didn't seem to be the type to go out of his way to insult someone. On the other, he didn't even know the guy. Maybe this was all some elaborate ruse to get him lost deep in the city and...

"You there, turn around!"

"Shit," Tony mumbled. Loki started to turn toward the direction of the voice, but Tony grabbed his shoulder. "Don't turn around. Let them come to us. Follow my lead."

"I said turn around and approach us. Do not make me repeat myself again."

Tony's hand quickly snuck into his pocket and pulled out something small and metallic. He seemed to be attaching it to his wrist and turning it on.

Loki whispered urgently, "What is that? Please tell me it's going to solve all of our problems."

"Four out of five of our problems. You get the last one with that knife of yours."

Loki's eyebrows shot up, and he started to ask how Stark knew before the voice rang out again.

"Cease talking and turn around. Last warning!"

"Here he comes on your left," Tony muttered, his eyes following several people behind Loki. "You got him?"

"I've got him. Tell me when."

There was a strange sound growing louder from Tony's hand. He tensed and counted, "Three... two... NOW!"

Loki sprang to his left, the knife already in hand. The man looked completely surprised at their sudden movement. Loki stopped with his knife against the man's neck and called out to Stark, "Kill, or maim?"

"Kill!" Tony shouted over the blasts coming from his hand. Loki looked down one more time at the now angry face under his blade.

"Sorry," he said, slitting the stranger's throat with a single slash. Loki turned away from the accusing eyes to watch Stark take out the last man with his device.

"Did you do all this with that thing?" he asked, coming over to investigate the damages. His eyes flicked between the four men sprawled on the pavement making sure they were down for good. Crouching down, Loki wiped his blade on the back of one of the man's coats.

Tony chuckled weakly, and looked down at Loki with a hint of pride. " I made this baby myself. I told you I was an inventor."

Loki frowned as he stood up, spotting a nasty cut on Stark's cheek. He absentmindedly reached out and wiped the blood from his face with a thumb.

Tony flinched a little and put a hand up to poke at it gingerly. "Well shit, there goes my pretty face."

"I can heal it once we reach my friend's house," Loki said, slipping his knife back into his pocket.

Tony shrugged and looked around at the bodies. "Well, don't say I didn't warn you," he said, smiling sarcastically. "Welcome to Asgard."

* * *

"This has to be the wrong address."

"1890 A West Foss Bi-way."

"You sure it was the Copper Section?"

"It says it right here, Stark," Loki pointed out, growing more irritated by the second. Tony snatched the paper out of his hands and examined it under the glow of a levitating orb.

"Uh, when did you say you got this?" Tony asked, still looking over the letter.

"Last week..."

"Yeah well, here's the problem," Tony said, shoving the paper back into Loki's hands. "This was sent two months ago and this," he pointed up at the clearly empty apartment building, "hasn't been lived in for at least a month."

"It cannot be true. There's no reason it should have taken so long to get to me!"

"Check the date again. Could be a mistake, unless someone didn't want you coming back in time," Tony responded quietly, looking up at the building. He pointed at the hollow windows. "See that? That's from a fire," he said, glancing at Loki with a strange look on his face. "Something bad happened here."

Loki gave the building one more look over before reading the letter again. "I don't understand, why would someone delay his letter to me?" he asked. "There's nothing here that meant anything important."

"Maybe there is," Tony said, stepping up to Loki and patting his shoulder. Loki flinched and did his best to not shake him off. "Let's go. We can come back tomorrow during the day."

"I suppose I should go to my father's house, then."

"What?!"

Loki gazed down at Stark. "I said, I—"

"I heard what you said," Tony snapped, taking his hand off of Loki's shoulder. "I meant 'why?' That's obviously not a good idea. What if he kicks you out again?"

Loki frowned and tucked away his letter carefully, avoiding meeting Tony's eyes. "I have nowhere else to go," he mumbled. "I had planned to visit him before I returned to the Waste Lands."

"Wait, wait, wait. Back it up." Tony tilted Loki's chin up and glared at him. "First, that's a bad idea considering why you left here in the first place. Secondly, since when are you returning to the Waste Lands? You have a permanent visa, you know. And lastly," he said, his voice lowering. "You can stay with me."

Loki blinked at him stupidly, his brain trying to process everything at once. All the physical contact was really stressing him out. Also, what was this man talking about? He barely knew anything about what happened with his father. Why was he offering to help to a perfect stranger?

"What do you get out of all of this?" he asked, a little surprised at himself for saying it out loud.

Tony grew more annoyed, letting go of Loki's chin and stepping away. "What do I get? I get one less dead body in the street. I get peace of mind," he replied. "Look, I don't want anything from you. Stay with me until you find your friend and Jesus, think about things before you go see that asshole of a father."

"...fine," Loki relented. "But I'm healing your cheek as soon as we return to your home."

"Super!" Tony shouted with a grin. "I can't wait to show you some of my stuff!"

Loki flinched and glanced around nervously to see if they had drawn any attention to themselves. "More of those hand powered blasters?" he asked quietly.

"Oh ho ho. You have no idea," Tony said, running off ahead of Loki like a kid. "They aren't hand powered," he called back.

"What are they powered by?"

Tony came wandering back to him, his expression more somber. "That's complicated."

"Stark, I did say we had tech out there," Loki reminded him with a huff of laughter.

Tony flashed a grin and nodded. "Yeah, you did. What kind of tech?"

Loki rolled his eyes at the obvious subject change. Clearly, there was more to the story than the man was willing to talk about. "We had a lot of things, and no wood stoves."

Tony nearly whimpered. "None!?"

"Sorry to crush your dreams of cabins filed with quant shit and wood stoves."

"Fine," Tony grumbled. "As long as I don't disappoint you with my house."

* * *

Stark spent an hour showing him around the house like an honored guest. The man's child-like glee over having a guest, Loki felt, was too sad to comment on. Clearly this guy didn't have many friends or family.

"This is the last part of our journey," Tony said, tapping a glass panel next to the door. "This is where I keep my toys."

Loki nearly groaned. It had been hours since he arrived at the city and he was not only starving, he desperately needed to use the bathroom.

"Oh, wait," Tony paused and looked down at his watch. "I can show you tomorrow. I didn't realize how late it was. You hungry?"  
"You've read my mind," Loki responded gratefully. With a snicker, Stark left the closed door behind them and led Loki to a kitchen. After seeing the rest of the tech-heavy house, Loki was still impressed by the kitchen. There was certainly no wood stove.

Tony opened the refrigerator door, and looked in. "Crap, it's all alcohol." He shooed Loki away. "You go do whatever you need to. I'll order something. JARVIS!?"

"No need to shout, sir," a cultured male voice responded.

"I thought you lived alone," Loki said, arching an .

"JARVIS is an artificially intelligence," Tony explained, his pride obvious. "I created him to help with my inventions."

Loki shrugged, unimpressed. "If you don't need me to help, I'll just explore until the food's ready."

"Fine." Tony seemed a little disappointed at his lack of response to the AI.

"Sir, there is a restroom down this hall. Two doors down on your left, " Jarvis directed.

"Thanks." Loki didn't want to know how the robot knew he had to piss, when Stark hadn't a clue.

He returned to an empty kitchen. It had taken him some time to figure out how to navigate the bathroom. He also got lost on his way back.

"Stark?"

"Please don't call me that," came Tony's voice from a similar glass panel by the door. "Call me Tony. Or make up something. I haven't had a good nickname yet."

"Where... did you go?" Loki asked, peering at the panel.

"I want to show you at least one invention. I'll be right back. Think of a name!"

Loki frowned as the panel went dark. A nickname? Sure, everyone in the Waste Lands had a nick name. When Loki wasn't being called a 'Laufeyson', they used 'Jotun'. But here, it seemed rather informal. From what Loki could remember, everyone always called one another by their last names. What could he possibly call Stark?

"You look like you're taking a shit."

Loki turned and cast a glare at the man as he came in with a pizza box in one hand and some sort of metal glove on the other.

"I was thinking of the perfect name for you."

"And that is?" Tony asked, slapping the pizza box down and flipping it open.

"_Fávitalegur Api_." _  
_  
"That's too long for a nickname. I mean, my name is one fucking syllable long." Tony was already stuffing a piece of pizza in his mouth when he paused in his chewing. "What does it mean, anyway?"

"Idiotic monkey."

"Love you too, sweet cheeks."

Loki glowered and crossed his arms. "Don't you dare call me that, old man."

"Ouch," Tony responded, looking hurt. "For that, you get no pizza."

"Don't call me sweet cheeks!"

"I heard you the first time. Shush and come eat some of this before I finish it off."

Still glaring, Loki slithered his way into one of the bar stools and snatched a piece for himself. After the first bite, his hunger took over. Tony let him finish more than half the pizza, and Loki was grateful.

"Why are you so hungry, Tree Hugger?" Tony asked, leaning on one hand and watching him eat. Loki licked a finger gracefully and frowned.

"It has been a while since I ate. My village was not close to the city walls."

"Are you telling me you didn't eat anything for the entire trip?" Tony stood up, looking strangely annoyed.

Loki tensed and shifted away slightly. Tony froze and instantly relaxed his body, as if trying to appear less threatening.

"I did have food," Loki began. "But it was gone all too soon. Some of it eaten, the rest stolen."

"Who would steal from you? You're a speed demon with a knife."

Loki felt his heart beat quicken as memories flooded his mind. He needed to calm down before he did something bad again.

After a few deep breathes, he looked at Tony again. "I wasn't as strong as I usually am. That route... holds bad memories for me."

Tony was silent for a few moments, fiddling with the metal glove on his right hand. He stopped and gave Loki a calculating look, searching his face for something. Tony looked away again, leaving Loki to wonder if he'd found what he had been looking for.

"If I tell you something from my past," Tony said, looking down at his hands, "will you tell me why that road bothers you?"

"I... suppose that is fair. Especially if we are to be living together for a short while."

"Alright..."

Loki waited for him to continue. Stark stared down at the gauntlet on his hand for a few more minutes before he stood up straight. Loki began to panic as Tony started to unbutton his shirt. "W-wait, what the hell are you..."

Loki stared in a mix of awe and revulsion. There, in his chest, was a circular, glowing piece of machinery. All fear lost, Loki stood up from his stool, coming over to him and reaching out to touch it.

"Can I?" he asked, his hand hovering over it.

"Yes. Just don't take it out."

"What is it?"Loki breathed, tracing a finger around the metal rim. He could feel a slight pulse coming from it.

Tony looked down at Loki's hand as he tapped the casing. "It keeps me alive."

"Why? How on earth did you even get this inside of you?"

"Well," Tony began quietly. "It started when my father tried to kill me."

* * *

"If you don't get your butt over here and help me, I'm going to cut off your allowance."

Tony glared his most heated glare and stayed exactly where he was. He was twenty two already, that threat wasn't exactly going to cut it anymore.

"So help me god," Howard Stark threatened. "I will cut you out of this family. Don't you dare pull this stuff with me again!"

"That doesn't work so well for you, dad," Tony responded nastily. "See, according to the magazines, I'm the new and rising star. You need me." Tony flashed a grin and started walking away. "I don't need you."

"Tony Stark! You get back here, now!"

"Yeah, use my last name," he called out from the hall. "Why don't you count down from five while you're at it."

Two days later, Tony was underneath the burning wreck that was once his favorite hot rod. The beautiful red creature had exploded when he turned the key in the ignition. His chest was punctured with dozens of small fragments and his face was filled with tiny shards of glass. The doctors weren't sure how to treat his case, since no one had survived the surgery needed to remove the metal from his body. So Tony took off and went to fix himself up.

He already had a large open wound in his chest from the explosion. It was stitched up so nicely, Tony almost regretted cutting open the stitched again to Instal the magnet. It was only supposed to be temporary. When he found out that he would have to keep those shards from his heart for the rest of his life, he came up with a plan.

Several weeks later, two close calls, and a lot of bruising, Tony had installed the device that would keep his heart running for the next  
twelve years.

Meanwhile, he avoided his father. That is, until he came home one night and heard his dad's voice coming from the living room.

"I told you to sabotage it, not blow it up!"

There was a silence as someone on the other end of the phone spoke.

"I never wanted you to kill him, you psychopath! I simply wanted to give him a little perspective. A small scare."

Tony turned, swallowing the bile in his throat, and left his family home for the last time in his life.

* * *

Loki had sat back down on his stool as Tony started talking, his face somber. He had remained quiet while Tony talked, humming only at certain points of the story. He remained silent for a few minutes after, looking as though he was having difficulty digesting his meal.

"So, he did not intend to kill you, but frighten you?" Loki asked, more to himself than Tony. "All the same..."

"Yeah," Tony said quietly. "There's more where that came from, but that's a story for another time." He buttoned up his shirt, hiding the glow, and pointed at Loki. "Your turn."

"Ah," Loki sighed and ran a hand through his hair. It was always difficult to talk about his past. Although that particular journey was hard, there were worse things he had gone through. Memories rose in his mind as he tried to find the safest one to tell. It was to be something meaningful, after the way Tony had opened up.

"My story starts with a father as well. But you knew that."

* * *

Loki was completely naked and covered in a mix of mud and blood. On his second day out of the city, a group of men stole everything he had with him, including the clothes off his back. That wasn't even the worst part. He seemed to be having some sort of allergic reaction to a plant he'd stepped on a while back. His feet were itchy, red, and swollen.

After the attack, Loki spent his first night curled up in a drainage pipe. Since then, he had been walking in the ditch on the side of the road. Every time he spotted the cloud of dust down the road, he ducked down into the gully to hide.

Walking was now impossible, his feet were too sore and swollen up to hold his weight. He managed to crawl into a bush to keep out of sight, but was unable to do much more. Night fell, leaving him cold and alone once again.

He finally cried when the sun came up the next morning, the light allowing him to see how dirty and torn his body was. The men had not been gentle. He cried and asked the sky for answers, cursing his father's name, his god's name, and himself.

Two days later, Loki had made it to the outskirts of town. His feet were now a bloody mess, matching the rest of his dirty body. He crept along the simple houses, keeping his ears open to any sounds of someone approaching. He nearly cried when he saw the clothing hanging out to dry on a line.  
Keeping low to the ground, Loki snuck closer to the clothes, searching for something close to his size.

"Hey. I don't know what exactly you're doing in my yard, but I don't like the looks of you."

Loki hissed and jumped backwards away from the voice. He crouched behind a poll and glared at the man in front of him. He was tall, taller than Odin, and was covered in blue and white tattoos. Loki's fear slid away as his eyes followed the tattoos across the man's face.

"Like 'em?" The blue man asked. "A lot of us out here get them. It's sort of a sign of our tribe, I guess."

"What..." Loki croaked. "What do they mean?"

"Mean?" The man laughed, raising an eyebrow at Loki. "That's an interesting thing for a kid to ask."

"I am hardly a kid!" Loki snapped, ducking behind the poll a little more. "I am fourteen already."

The man whistled as if impressed. "Well then, you would be considered a man out here. Even though you're a scrawny little thing," he said, taking a step forward. "Speaking off, you aren't from around here. Are you?"

Loki hissed again as he approached Loki's hiding spot. "Why do you care?"

"Because no one is a stranger around here. You're the first new person in town since ol' Sue came a year ago."

Loki was starting to get tired. He hadn't spoken since so much since he left the city. His last conversation had been with himself. It was somehow more tiring now than he remembered. He crouched down, his eyes flicking around the yard to find an escape route.

"Hey, no need to be scared," the man said, smiling warmly as he came closer. "I've picked up a few strays in my time. Why don't you come inside and get cleaned up?"

Loki cowered behind the poll, finding it harder to focus on his escape. "N-no. I just want to go home. I don't need anything from you."

"I would say you do. You don't even have any clothes..." The man frowned and stopped moving closer. "I'm afraid to ask why."  
"Some horrid _typpið vantar apa_ stole them!"

The man burst out laughing. Loki flinched back more.  
"A city boy, huh? Sounds like Asgard right there," the man said with another chuckle. "What's a city brat like you, doing out here in the Waste?"

"Why should I tell you?!" Loki snarled. The man simply shrugged and stepped closer. Loki gave up on hiding and charged him.

Leaping up, Loki went for the man's nose. He manage to graze the blue nose with an elbow before the guy caught him by the back of the neck and pull him off. Loki immediately squirmed in his grasp and bit down into the hand holding him.

"Ow!" The man exclaimed, only to start laughing again. "You're a wild one, for a city brat."

Loki's eyes met his, his teeth still dug deeply into the man's hand. He remained that way, even as tears started to drip from his eyes.

The blue man's expression softened immediately, and his other arm curled around to support Loki's body.

"Hey," the man spoke quietly. "Hey, it's okay. I mean it when I said you can come in and clean up. No hidden agenda, okay?"

Loki hiccuped, finally releasing his jaw. He choked and sobbed, blood and tears pouring off his face. With one simple gesture, the man wiped some of the mess off of Loki's face.

Loki wailed. Because it had been so gentle. Because it hadn't hurt him. Because it was the first time in many years someone had touched him with kindness.

* * *

Tony was smiling faintly as Loki finished speaking. He stood and stretched, cracking his back a few times.

"Is it bad that I feel happy about that story?" he asked, gesturing for Loki to follow him.

Loki stood and walked behind the man in curiosity. "I don't understand."

"I mean, it's horrible. No one deserves to be treated like that. Especially not you." Tony turned as walked backwards down the hall. "But I like the ending. It's a happy ending."

Loki smiled at last. "In the end, it was a happy ending," he agreed, slowing as Tony came to a stop.

"Here, this is your very own special room. I'm just a few doors down if you need anything." He scratched his chin and added, "Jarvis is pretty much everywhere, if you need anything."

"Thank you," Loki said and bowed his head a little.

"No problem, Sour Cheeks."

"Goodnight, Idiotic Monkey."


End file.

Avengers, Romance, Sci-Fi