A plan of action was in order. And no plan of action had been made.
The team sat, hands in laps, around the rarely used meeting table in silence. They had realized quickly that they had no godly idea as to how exactly they were planning to make anything better. They were uncomfortably aware of the fact that the Norse god in question was still holed up in his room several floors down. It had been an hour or so since the Pepper disaster and they knew sitting there was only making things worse.
"So… still no ideas?" Tony asked, drumming his fingers on the glass table-top. He was beginning to panic, his pulse beating in his ears like a wave against the cliff side. The longer he waited, he knew, the worse it would get. The general shaking of heads served nothing for his racing mind and resulted in a sickening feeling in his stomach.
"Sir, may I make a suggestion?" Jarvis asked, surprising the group.
"Shoot, Jay," Tony said, a little spark of hope igniting in his chest.
"I believe that the simplest way to improve the situation with Mr. Laufeyson," Tony didn't miss the way Thor flinched at the surname of his brother, "would be to engage him in individual activities."
The group arched their eyebrows, shooting questioning glances at each other, "By which, I mean one or two members of the team should choose, to put it bluntly, a trust building activity to share with Mr. Laufeyson."
"Like what?" Tony asked, suddenly intrigued with the idea.
"Like you and Mr. Banner have been teaching Mr. Laufeyson about technology, Sir," Jarvis said, sounding exasperated (if that was possible) with the team's seeming lack of understanding.
"We could spar with him," Clint offered, pointing towards himself and Natasha, "To work on his health and stuff too."
Tony nodded, realizing that Jarvis's plan might actually work.
"I could have him help me cook," Steve offered, seeming sheepish.
"Then when Cap sleeps in, someone else can feed us!" Clint grinned as Steve shot him a look.
"I am not sure as of what activity would be best for me and my brother it partake in," Thor said, staring at the table, "We never particularly took part in similar activities, even as children."
"Maybe, Thor, it would just be best if you just spent time with him," Natasha offered, "You two could, I don't know, watch movies or something."
"I do enjoy the moving picture stories," Thor nodded, "It would also allow Loki and myself to learn of Midgardian culture," Thor was grinning now, he knew his brother loved to learn and was ecstatic to have found such a simple solution.
"What would we do without you, Jarvis?" Tony grinned.
"I would prefer not to dwell on it, Sir," Tony really wanted to know who taught him to be snarky. Except he already knew.

---

A terrible sinking feeling gripped at the base of Tony's stomach as his every footstep brought him closer to Loki's door.
They had decided that, since this was Tony's mess, he should be the one to talk to Loki and Tony had no objections besides the fact that his head spun and heart burst with every agonizing step towards the mischief-maker's room.
He did not know what he would find in there, what emotion the god would show him, but worrying about the celestial being seemed futile as he stopped in front of the bedroom. He knew Loki was perfectly aware of his presence outside the door, but at the same time, knew Loki would not open his door for him. So, left to be his own un-doer, he knocked on the door.
The silence that followed was far worse than any silence ensued by Pepper.
He knocked again, hoping vainly that the god would open the seemingly impenetrable barrier, but no such relief came. Tony bit his lip as he reached for the door handle. When it turned easily, he was not sure how he should feel.
The unlocked door either meant that Loki had unlocked it for him, or the god had never locked at all. The latter seemed most probable and most foreboding. Tony dared not breathe as he opened the door, cursing every offending creak of the hinges. Tony was prepared, prepared to see a silently sobbing, or perhaps silently fuming, god. He was not prepared for a very still, very silent god, perched on the edge of his bed.
There were no emotions on the god's face. His eyes were not puffy with tears. Tony had been ready for tears, ready for heart wrenching sobs of soul crushing anguish.
This cold, stone mask wrenched and crushed his heart and soul far more than any sob or rage could.
Tony's insides knotted and twisted at the sight of his god.
"Please, don't do this to me," Tony pleaded. The desperation in his voice did not faze the god, which hurt more than any slap or biting remark. Tony watched with a sinking heart as all the emotions, all the joyfulness and mischief they had worked so hard to pull from the very depths of hell, fell to pieces as the god retreated inside himself.
Tony knew what someone who was trying to lock himself away looked like. He had seen it countless times in the face that stared at him from the mirror, but it hurt far more to see it on the broken face of his god.
"Please look at me, Loki, please," Tony whispered, not sure if he had said it aloud or in his head, either way, the god did not move, "Loki, this is all my fault, I'm sorry! Look, don't listen to her, she doesn't know what she's talking about!"
"That's it though, Stark," Tony flinched, Loki had used his surname, and that simple gesture spoke novels to Tony, "She knew exactly what she was talking about."
Tony felt like the god had just knocked the wind out of his lungs, he would've preferred it if he had.
"Why are you looking at me like I'm some wounded animal?" Loki asked, his voice a placid monotone, "She was right. I am no idiot, Stark. I am well aware of the facts. It will be a matter of time before you grow bored of me and Thor returns me to Asgard. There is no point in denying it, I have known from the beginning."
Tony stood, his feet rooted to their spot. He was surprised when a swell and rage burst inside his chest, "If you believe that, you are an idiot! Do you really think that I… we… after all that we've done for you, that we would just get bored? Have I not proven that I care? What more can I do? I beg of you to tell me!" He was standing in front of Loki now, glaring at the mask, wanting to rip it from the face of the ice-cold figure.
"Why, Stark? What angle have you been playing? What has been your motive to keep me here? What could you possibly gain?" Loki's voice shook with barely concealed venom. He lifted his eyes and met Tony's glare with a cold, calm stare, "Was it simply so you could watch me fall?"
Tony was shaking, a twisted mixture of rage and utter sorrow griped at his chest like a fist. "Is that what you think? Is that really what you think?"
No.
That wasn't what Loki thought at all, but it was what Loki was accepting with overwhelming pain. Loki refused to admit to himself that, until Pepper, he had allowed himself to imagine a life where he was brothers with Thor once again and happy with Tony. But, Pepper had planted the seed of doubt in his mind that had grown as thick and as fast as ivy, covering and consuming his hope so quickly his head spun.
Before, before all the pain and all the lies, Loki had never been the type of person to let other's opinions influence his own. He hated how fragile he had become, how easily he was shattered. Now, as Loki sat on the edge of his bed, staring up at the one person he had still believed in, all he could think was how easy it would be for Tony to crush him.
"What if it is, Stark?"
Something changed in Tony's expression, something that confused Loki. The anger in his eyes melted to a raw pain like Loki had never seen any anyone but himself.
Then it clicked. Loki realized with a crash of panic that his simple question had told Tony everything he was feeling. It was the simple fact that Loki had not denied nor claimed that he took Pepper's words as truth that told Tony that he never had.
"Loki, I would never send you back there, you know that," Tony's voice was cracking, shaking slightly as Loki averted his gaze, "Loki, we took you in because we understood. We know you're good, I know you're good. I know you believe me, I know you. Stop trying to protect yourself, I won't hurt you, I promise."
Loki stayed quiet; he hated and loved the feeling of Tony tearing down the walls he had so rapidly built. He wanted to believe Tony, every fiber of his being pleaded for him to look up into the chocolate-brown eyes that held enough adoration for a thousand Lokis.
"Why, Stark?" Loki willed back the tears that were threatening and brimming his eyes, blurring his vision. He was suddenly aware of warm fingers hooking under his chin and forcing it up, aware of hot tears streaking down his face in streams, and aware of a callused thumb brushing them away, "You are a fool to accept me," Loki's voice shook as he forced himself not to melt into the hand that cradled his chin, "I am a monster and no Midgardian will ever understand. They will all act as that woman did, they will never forgive me, and they will never forgive you for forgiving me."
"Then I will remain a fool for the rest of my life," Tony said softly, breaking all unwavering control that Loki possessed. Tears ran down his face in a seemingly endless flow as his body shook. He was faintly aware of warm arms surrounding his frame and allowed himself to sink into the smell of transition fluid, oil, and alcohol.
"How weak I have become," Loki said into the now soaked cloth of Tony's shoulder once slight composure had been gathered. He hiccupped and allowed more tears to fall down his swollen cheeks.
"Crying doesn't mean you're weak, it means you've been strong for too long," Tony whispered as he stroked the god's silky black hair. This only resulted in a new onslaught of tears, but with less anguish, "Loki, look at me," Tony begged, holding the god at arm's length.
Loki looked up at Tony, though his vision was slightly blurred, he did not miss the plea in the warm features as Tony searched the green eyes that seemed painfully bright when framed with the blood-shot orbs.
Tony felt the never welcomed fear grip his chest as his mouth worked around the words the begged to be spilt. He was painfully aware that he had the power to fortify or destroy the god, a choice he was not comfortable with being given.
"Loki, do you believe me when I tell you that I never want to hurt you? That I want to be with you until the day I die?" the desperation and plea in the man's voice sent Loki's head spinning. Tony did not breathe as he watched the emotions play on Loki's face.
Slowly, painfully slowly, Loki nodded.
"You know that I will never get bored with you or throw you aside?" and again Loki nodded.
A burst, a small burst, of courage bloomed in the playboy's chest as he held the god, his god, with the alabaster skin, hair blacker than night and finer than silk, and eyes greener than the most precious of jewels, at arm's length. He gripped the thin shoulders gently and ran his thumbs lightly over the displayed collar bones, "Then, please, believe me when I tell you that…" Tony swallowed thickly and ignored the blood rushing to his cheeks, "When I tell you that… I love you."
Loki could not think, could not breathe, for he suddenly forgot how to.
A part of him, a very large part of him, told him that it was impossible and whispered crudely in his ear that Tony could never love him because he was a monster undeserving of love.
Love had become a foreign concept to the broken prince, a painful and idiotic idea that only served to torture him. But the part of Loki, the part that had not been present within him a month ago, whispered something very different. The part of him that seemed to exist solely for Tony, told him that the man before him told no lies. While Loki was all too aware of how easily the man could leave him broken beyond repair, he knew that if he pushed Stark away, he would break right there; so with agonizing slowness, he nodded his head.
The grin that spread across Tony's face left Loki with no doubt that he had chosen correctly. He felt a weak smile tug at his lips as warm arms enveloped him in a hug. Tony buried his face in the nape of Loki's neck as he tackled him to the bed. A chuckle escaped the god's lips as Tony clung to him as if, if he were to let go, Loki would disappear from there forever.
"I love you, Loki," Anthony grinned into the cold skin.
He never wanted to let go of his god, because he knew that Loki was his and he always wanted that to be true.
"I… I love you too, Anthony," Loki breathed into the dark fabric of Tony's shirt.
The words were foreign in his mouth, like a food he remembered eating as a child but had long ago forgotten its flavor. Loki had forgotten the flavor of those words, genuine and true on his lips. "I love you," he repeated, savoring the sweetness of each syllable.

Notes