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BRUCE tries not to look at them. Forces himself to lower his eyes.
He would like to learn more about Loki, about his origins, his worlds and his nightmares. About the colors of the planet where he was born, the nebulae he observed from the spaceships he had been on, the metamorphoses that were forced onto his body. Bruce would like to know what kind of humanity subsists in him, and what has been torn away from him. Also about what remains of his life, and what has been forbidden to him. But one question burns Bruce's lips more than the others: how does Loki still stand?
Loki's flesh seems to have been cut, torn apart and reassembled. The scars are sharp between the different textures of his skin, and they are brutal when they meet metal. His body looks like the ruins of a war. And his eyes? Bruce turns to him again, but quickly returns his attention to his hands when he meets the alien's gaze.
Loki has huge eyes, dark like space, and green like a luxurious land. Just as empty, and just as rich. Bruce wants to observe them. But he knows he wouldn't understand. He wouldn't understand as well as Tony.
In the reflection of the glass wall, Bruce keeps giving them furtive glances. Loki is sitting on the counter and Tony is standing in front of him. His glasses on his nose, he listens with rapt attention to the advices that Friday has been suggesting to him for the last several minutes. His fingers dance lightly around the alien's left eye: a mechanism is deficient, and a quarter of Loki's face, up to his brow bone, moves forward and backward constantly.
Bruce guesses that Tony is learning the rhythm of the glitch. He works with patience. Nippers between his fingers, he tries to figure out how to deactivate the internal reflex system as soon as the eye comes forward.
"Why are you smiling?" Loki asks him, as still as a statue.
Tony found it, Bruce understands. Of course, he found it. When Loki's face breaks, this time Tony gently slides his hand against the alien's cheek and deftly restores order to the mechanisms. One. Two. Three. Four. Click.
Tony removes the nippers as Loki's face returns to its most normal form. And Tony stays there, close.
"Way better," he says quietly before putting his glasses down.
Bruce notices that he is now standing between Loki's legs, and that the alien looks away when the engineer removes his hand from his skin and pulls back without a word.
***
RHODEY stares at him, crossing his arms.
It's the same damn thing everyday: Tony wakes up at dawn and watches the sun rise over the world, its powdery glow soothing the lines of his tired face. Just a bit. Then he asks Friday if there is anything new, his eyes shining in hope to hear that half the universe has regenerated, that Peter is bouncing on his feet in the elevator, that Pepper is in the hall, followed by Happy. But nothing ever happens and Tony's eyes are clouded for the rest of the day.
Then he stretches and works his exhausted body, wincing. He takes off his t-shirt, puts it on the counter. His stomach wound appears on the screens in front of him, hardly healing, then he examines his arc reactor. Supposed to be detachable, yeah. However, the nanotechnology has merged - again - with his body. It gets inside his skin, now reddened, damaged. Nanoparticles have entered his blood, roam his veins. Rhodey distinguishes them, dark under his skin. He wants to talk to him about it, tell him to fix it. And that's what he's here for, in the shadow of the entrance to the workshop.
But he stops in his tracks.
Loki got ahead of him, walking towards Tony, coming out of nowhere. Tony jumps when he sees Loki and the screens go blank immediately. The green-eyed man walks to him, lips sealed, his eyes riveted on the compartment now fused with Tony's chest. Rhodey watches him touch and brush the bruised flesh, ever so softly, and his forehead creases when Tony doesn't move. His friend doesn't let anyone touch him, never so close to his heart. Still, Loki's hand goes down to his ribs, over the large bruise that hardly heals. Loki's fingers remove with a strange gentleness the translucent bandage covering the wound which remains gaping.
"Sit down," he orders Tony, and the man obeys with a sigh.
Rhodey watches the alien grab an alcohol pad and apply it to the wound. Tony winces a little.
"Weakling," the other murmurs in a harsh voice.
"Let me suffer in peace, Snow White," Tony growls.
Rhodey stifles a laugh and decides to leave them alone. They are the same. Of flesh and metal parts. Of torture and silence. Alone and together.
Before he leaves, he wants to be sure and eyes them one last time. His friend's big brown eyes are intently watching the metallic-skinned being as he tries to put on a new bandage; Tony's eyes are no longer clouded.
"You have to find a way to keep the metal from getting into your blood," Loki says. "It’s slowing down your body's healing process."
Tony nods silently, spellbound.
***
THOR and ROCKET are standing against the wall of the Avengers HQ.
Usually these days they watch the sun go down; red, apocalyptic. The calm of the end of the world settles more violently every evening. At first, the silence has been monstrous. The sound of ashes that fell across the entire universe echoed for weeks on end, and still does. However, this evening they do not hear it.
“I don't get it, I'm telling ya,” Rocket admits.
Thor, arms crossed, looks down at him before following his gaze. Further, Loki sits atop the Benatar, his slim figure against the light, calm and thoughtful.
"What, Sweet Rabbit?"
"He didn't kill anyone."
"There have been enough deaths," Thor breathes, feeling the sun shine on him.
"Yeah, I know, I know!" Rocket says, ears perking up. "But he really didn't kill anyone! And he lets that Stark guy touch him without tearing his arms off? It's a war machine, this crazy git, like me," he explains, pointing his claws at himself.
"There is no more war, Rocket," Thor declares, weary. "You don't have to fight or kill anymore. It's the same for Loki. As for all of us."
Rocket says nothing.
"It's all over, there is nothing more we can do," the god continues. "And Loki met Stark. Whoever comes to know this mortal ends up thinking about the world, and ends up getting attached too. Stark is one of the greatest hearts I have ever met. He knows how to touch the sould of others. And he's very smart. You should go see him. He would help you with your metal body."
"Mmh. Maybe."
Tony appears outside the building to their right. He joins Loki near the ship, Carol, Natasha and Bruce in his footsteps.
"That's weird, seeing Loki have it all for himself," Rocket admits. "And that guy's weird, too. They ain't ever letting go of each other."
Hearing this, Thor realizes it's the truth. Tony and Loki haven't left each other's side for a day since they arrived on Earth. They watch over the other relentlessly. Thor would like to be a part of it.
“Cheeseburgers!" Tony claims, shaking a bag in his hand, and Loki is soon next to him.
"Is there any food for me?" Thor asks, roaring and walking over to them.
"Huh, I sure hope there's more than one bag," Rocket sighs.
***
STEVE listens while remaining discreet.
Every night, he goes down to the training room and unleashes his rage against the punching bags that end up flying and knocking the walls. Sometimes Loki is there too, but he never fights. He keeps quiet, sometimes brushing against what Steve guesses to be weapons he has often used. And tonight, while trying to break one of his blades in two, the alien injured himself. Before Steve even notices, Tony pops out next to him.
"It's nothing!" Loki says as he sits down on the floor.
Tony kneels down next to him and stares at him, making the alien mumbling in annoyment.
"You cut yourself and your wrist is broken," he observes. "Do you have any other genius ideas?"
Loki doesn't answer.
"I'm going to fix you, I'm starting to... get used to it."
Tony smiles sweetly at him.
"You don't have to do that."
"Do what?" the genius asks, cleaning the wound on Loki's forearm.
"That."
His eyebrows are furrowed when he looks up.
"Caring about me. I didn't care about you."
"Mmh, that's the thing, honey," Tony smiles. "Didn't. In the past."
Then he gently examines his friend's wrist, the off-center mechanisms under his fair, almost translucent skin. With his fingertips, Tony traces the metal and identifies which parts have moved.
"Grit your teeth, Severus," he warns before snapping everything back into place.
Steve doesn't understand the reference and he doesn't even hear the alien react. He only watches Loki being mermerized by the man who is still smiling at him. Tony plays delicately with his fingers between his.
"Everything looks in order," he said tenderly. "Anything else, Lokes?"
"Now," he mumbles, his eyes avoiding the man's.
"Mmh?"
"I care about you now," Loki repeats dryly.
A proud smile on the corner of his lips, Tony leans in and leaves a kiss on Loki's hand. Steve expects an angry cry, a slap, a punch. But Loki doesn't move. His eyes are fixed on his hand; healthy, safe against Tony's.
***
CAROL is quite fascinated.
It downed on her that she has never been close to anyone. Maria and Monica were her family, and she left them, twice, and never came back. And Fury? Well, he's gone too, now. Like half of the universe. And they - she - can do nothing to fix that. She feels powerless, unable to bring back the ones that are gone, and incapable of getting close to the ones that are left. Oh, Thor is great, Banner is kind. Rogers is quiet, the raccoon is mad, Natasha is drowning. In fact they all are. Only Rhodes talks to her, smiles at her. It warms her heart a bit.
But none of them captivates her the way Stark and Loki do. As inviduals, well, they're quite something. The cyborg is heartbroken and the mortal is... clothed with death. Yet he wears a smile that is the single brightest child life has ever birthed.
Both of them should be on the floor, lifeless, maybe crawling a bit in a last and desperate attempt to hold onto something. But they are here, standing near the river. She has watched them go on a walk as the sun was going down in a pink and orange final breath.
They have stopped though, the second Loki tentatively slid his hand in Tony's. Carol cannot see their faces, cannot hear if they speak.
She is only a witness, in the distance, of a moment she has no right to spy on, she knows that. The urge to turn around and leave them to their secrecy is strong but her heart racing from the desire to see a beautiful thing again in this universe is stronger.
Soon, she feels a hand on her shoulder and sees Rhodes smiling next to her. The rest of the Avengers join them on the balcony. Banner, a bit embarassed, hands in his pockets, stands behind them. Thor and Rocket take a seat facing the disapearing sun. Rogers, standing against the door, crosses his arms, a tight smile on his face. Natasha comes to sit on the thick concrete wall next to Carol, one of her legs swinging in the air.
They should all leave Tony and Loki alone. But they truly are beautiful.
And as Tony guides Loki's hand to place it on his neck, ghosting over his jaw, they all hold their breath. Soon, and ever so slowly, Loki leans in and seals his lips to Tony's.
Carol hears herself gasp, a tear rolling down her cheek. Smiling, the team doesn't say a word and holds onto this new, extraordinary thing. A bit later, they all go back into the building. Rhodes' arm still around her shoulders, Carol feels happy, and her guilt, their guilt, is quiet for the rest of the night. Maybe there's hope. Maybe they can still win.