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Tony was humming to himself one night as he worked on one of his cars when he lifted his head and said, "I think I need to talk to Pepper."
It was as if he'd suddenly realized that a world of possibilities was open before him, and he knew which one he wanted to pursue.
"Why?" Loki asked him. What do you want from her?
"Because," he said, pausing again to think. "I'm a little more together now than I was, and maybe... this time it'd really work."
He'd seen their descent. He'd been watching when his Pepper had told him that she needed space, needed a break. And everything he knew about the world, about people, told him that his hope was in vain.
"You don't wanna tell me what you think?" Tony said to his silence. "You don't have to spare my feelings here, I know she's too good for me."
"That is a matter of perspective, but the problem is if she believes it too," Loki replied. "I have found this to be true of people in general: if they did not consider you worthy from the start, they never will." Heimdall was unique in the universe. He had seen more than the rest of them could possibly imagine. And still, his change of heart towards Loki had been a miracle of no little wonder. And still, he did not precisely look upon Loki as a friend. They were colleagues, at most. A ruling partnership, perhaps much like the face of Stark Industries, and its CEO. Proof that one could learn to deal with the devil. Not proof that one could come to love them.
"Pepper's not like that." I can change, she has to see that.
"And if she is?" You have changed. It's clearly not been enough. Do you really want to change so much? Would you still be yourself?
"I have to try." The resonance of that sentiment went all the way down. She was important enough. It was as simple as that.
Loki sighed. "Very well." He hoped, for Tony's sake, that the man knew something Loki did not.
When Pepper came, Loki pretended to have something to do. He pretended to leave. But he could not lie to himself about how much the outcome mattered to him, and he could not bring himself to leave.
Pepper wore a strained smile, and her tone was full of worried curiosity as she greeted Tony. "Now what did you want to talk about that you couldn't leave a message?" Please don't say you're dying again.
"Uh, well, us?" Tony said with a pained look and a shrug.
"What's there to talk about? I thought we were pretty clear." Please don't start this again. I love you but you make me miserable.
It immediately became hard to follow the conversation, because they ran so quick from one thing to another, rapid-fire; they talked over each other, almost bypassed the literal meaning altogether just to speak pure tone of voice.
"Well, clear. In some respects." In others? No, I'm completely lost. I need help here.
"Tony, we've been over this...." Please, please don't make me do this again.
"That I wasn't doing my job as your boyfriend, yeah, I got that part." If I knew how to fix this, I'd do it. I'm trying.
"It's not a job. It's not going to work if you treat it like a job, Tony." It's not supposed to be this hard. It's not supposed to wear me down, make me dread coming home at night.
"...What the job was, exactly, not so much." Help me out here. I want to do better. But I don't get it.
"I mean, you don't even treat your job like a job." Things with you were supposed to be fun. Coming home is supposed to be a relief.
"What do you want, what do you want? You want me to take more time with you? Pay more attention, remember things? I can do better. I can do better if you can just explain it to me." I'm trying, I always try, and that has to be enough, because it's all I've got.
"It's not supposed to be a corporation. It's just supposed to be us." I spend enough time with Stark Industries, I spend enough time under stress for your professional life. I can't spend any more.
"...A job is what needs doing. It's what I do, I get them done. What defines that? Parameters. Not attitude. Not in my world." I need instructions. I know it's not enough, I know I'm not enough, I know I'm missing something, and I'm frustrated that I don't understand the needs here.
I want to be here for you, I want to but it's killing me, it's going to kill me. "You want parameters, Tony?" Pepper snapped then. "How about five minutes where the only thing you're worrying about is me?" I need you to stop being Iron Man. I need you to stop looking at the big picture. I need you to narrow your focus until it's only about me. Not all the time, but regularly. Often. Every day. I need you to stop always having one eye on what you can do to save the world.
"Oh." He blinked. "I can't do that." The words were toned like a breakthrough, a revelation. I'd do anything for you in that I'd do anything to keep you safe. Keeping the world safe will always be part of that. You've been my world, but there's a whole galaxy out there that I can't just ignore. "I'll always love you, Pep," were the words he said. "But I can't shut everything else out. Not even for you. I can't, and I won't, and..." This is the end, isn't it? His face screwed up, his fists clenched, as if he was preparing for a blow, could feel the pain of it already. Then he opened one eye enough to look at her, got the words out. "If this is a break, let's make it a clean one?"
Let's not drag it out any more, because it's killing us both. You're a part of me, but amputation is the only thing that'll save us now.
Oh.
They were family.
"If I am for the axe, then for mercy's sake...."
This wasn't that, Loki reminded himself. This Pepper creature meant well. Hated that she could not care for him in all the ways he seemed to need. And she tried her best to listen to the deepest currents under all his words.
She reminded him of Frigga.
"I'm so sorry, Tony," was what she said, but the tone was one of profound relief. Yes. Let's end this.
"It's okay," he told her, and he really meant it, meant that he was glad that they'd figured it out, though his voice was creaky with pain. I'm lucky to know you. I'm lucky to have solved this puzzle. I'm glad that this time, I know I'm right. I know what direction I'm supposed to head. "It's for the best."
He reached out and took her hands in his, and then for a moment they just looked at each other, Pepper's eyes distinctly red-rimmed, Tony's not too far behind.
"Yeah," Tony said suddenly, nodding. "Yeah, it's okay, right? It's good? No hard feelings?" I'm not completely bungling this, am I, because this is important. You're important.
Pepper laughed slightly, wiping her eyes. "Yes, Tony," she said. "We're okay." We will be okay.
"Go, find a better knight in shining armor." You deserve a better man. He tried to hide the bitterness of that, but Loki heard it.
"I never wanted a knight." There's no one better than you at being a knight, at being a hero. I have heroes. I need something else, too. But you will always be my hero. She kissed him on the cheek, then took a breath, gave a little nod, and turned to leave, just barely managing not to look back.
Tony stood for a minute, watching her go. If he was surprised to see Loki in one of his armchairs when he turned around, he didn't show it at all.
"Didn't realize I'd sold tickets to that particular show." He sounded more amused than anything, and perhaps relieved not to be left alone with his thoughts quite yet. But that bitterness was still there.
"I'm sorry for intruding. But I felt I should tell you I heard all of that."
Tony waved a dismissive hand. "Privacy's overrated." I miss JARVIS. The context was almost louder than the text.
Loki smiled. "Nothing is sacred to you, is it?" You don't care if your deepest heart shines out constantly.
Tony glared at him. "I don't actually have a lot of choice, now, do I?" he growled. If I had to choose one person to share everything with, it certainly wouldn't be you.
That stung, but Loki understood it. After everything. After being the face of the invasion. After throwing him out of a window. After the truths the man had had to face today.
"If you truly want me to stop, I will." Inasmuch as either of us can trust such a promise.
Tony let out a harsh breath, almost laughter, almost a sigh. "Kings, gods, nonbelievers... not being able to afford privacy is the price of being able to afford everything else." Some people would pay a lot for privacy. But the universe is so big... and all I want out of it is for someone to hear me, to listen, to get it.
"Trust me to snoop, then. Because a man like you must have some secrets worth knowing." You're worth knowing.
"Oh, I'm counting on it." I need you, what you've given me.
There was silence between them, then.
"I should go," Loki said at last. You have some things to think about, I'm guessing.
"Yeah, as fun as that was... well, I've got an engineering binge calling my name." This is when I get lost, this is when I do stupid things like not eat and build incredibly dangerous devices, but I can't help it sometimes, I need to get lost right now.
"But then you'll never know if I am truly gone." I'll be keeping an eye out.
"Sneaky bastard." Tony didn't make any attempt to hide the fondness with which it was said. The relief took a little digging. But it was there. Tony had come to rely on Loki's presence in his life.
Loki truly left, then. He had matters of ruling to attend to, or he might as well. It would do him no good at all to stay and watch Tony Stark mourn the loss of what he had thought his great love.
Tony was a diversion that kept the loneliness at bay, kept Loki from thinking too much of what he longed for, because chasing love, chasing approval, had never done him or anyone any good.
Loki had never had a place in life with which he was satisfied, and he likely never would. This had as much chance of becoming what he longed for it to be as Loki had of spontaneously transforming into a strawberry.
They had a partnership that was advantageous on both sides, that was certain. But Loki knew that Tony could never come to love his devil.
That was simply not how the universe worked.