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The list of injuries Tony sustained was... long. Kind of really horribly long and it involved tissue being regrown and maybe a smidge of internal bleeding. And let’s not forget the fractures and the couple of broken bones.
But really, he was fine. The suit was a write off, but he was alive and, you know, going to keep on kicking. The Doctors didn’t have a lot of hope for him being able to feel anything properly again in his hand what with all the nerve-damage. They also didn’t expect him to able to use it again, but, fuck it; he’d make it work. He’d build himself a permanent gauntlet if he had to.
He’d find a way.
The prognosis still made him...weary. Snappish too.
He’d holed himself up in the penthouse and refused to see anyone. Fuck, he couldn’t even hold a drink anymore. His hand started to tremble and he dropped it after too long.
The shrapnel had been horrible, but it hadn’t debilitated him, not like this. They didn’t even think he could invent anymore. (And he couldn’t, not with only one hand, not with his body betraying him at every fucking turn. Not like this.)
Tony dug the fingers of his good hand into his eyes, trying not to let the depression and panic consume him. Trying not to let himself cry. (Not again. Not tonight.)
He didn’t want to see anyone, didn’t want to be talked to or pitied. But it seemed he wasn’t going to get his wish.
Tony didn’t have to see him to know when Loki arrived. There was a subtle change to the air, a burst of energy that quickly dissipated but still left Tony’s hair on end.
“Look, I don’t want to talk to anyone, okay?” He growled.
Not perfect Demi-Gods who walked out of battle with a fucking skip to their step and nothing more than a cut. When there was no lasting damage ever and when Loki thought mortals were just useless lumps of meat just waiting to die. Not when Loki was only on Earth and helping them because Odin had forced him to.
Tony just couldn’t stand to look at him and watch the ‘I told you so’ and disappointment - the disgust - get written across Loki’s face.
Loki didn’t say anything though, but Tony also knew the mage hadn’t left.
He heard the sound of boots coming closer to where he was curled up on the couch; pathetic and small; alone and devastated.
Loki crouched down in front of him; Tony could hear the sound of leather creaking and feel it brushing against him. He grew even tenser, but it wasn’t until he felt Loki’s soft hands taking his injured one that his eyes snapped open and he jerked his head up.
He looked at Loki’s face, but the mage’s attention was on their hands. When he felt the area grow warm, he looked down to find magic glowing around them.
“It will hurt,” Loki told him, a second before fucking agony ripped through him. He tried to jerk away but Loki’s strength was keeping him still. He cursed and hissed and kept trying to remove himself - but while it only lasted a couple of minutes, when Loki finally let go and he yanked his arm back, it only took a moment for Tony to notice the difference.
Tony looked down at his hand and flexed it; feeling strength and dexterity in every finger and nerve. He stared at the mage in front of him, his heart pounding and so much relief and gratitude flooding through him that it was almost crippling.
“Loki, you...”
Loki started to stand up and move away, but Tony darted his hands out to grip Loki’s lapels. “No, hey, wait. You just. My hand.” His eyes fell to stare at it, still reeling at the sudden change. He then forced his gaze to Loki’s blank one. “What can I...? Can I do anything? I mean. Thanks. And just. Can I-”
He stopped when Loki came a little closer. “You’ll tell no one.”
Tony frowned. “What? They’re going to figure out you did something. I can’t just heal on my own.”
“No.” He moved closer still, their faces inches apart. “You’ll tell no one of this.”
Tony didn’t expect it, although he probably should have.
Loki closed the last remaining space and kissed him softly. The caress was light and while Tony’s mouth parted in surprise, all Loki did was pull away and kiss him again, this time against the corner of his mouth. A gentle sigh of pleasure was breathed against his lips before Loki moved away completely.
His hand rose so his thumb could brush Tony’s face. He looked surprisingly... content. “I’m glad you’ll be well, Anthony.”
He smiled faintly before disappearing the same way he’d come; with an abrupt spike of magic that left nothing behind but air.
Tony could only stare into space and feel completely dumbfounded over what had just happened.
He licked his lips and glanced down at his hand. “FR-FRIDAY? Where’s Loki now?”
“His quarters,” she answered promptly. “He has disrupted my surveillance. Shall I attempt to-”
“No, let him have it,” Tony told her, still staring as he flexed his hand. “And FRIDAY, wipe your memory logs of tonight. You didn’t see anything.”
“Yes, Boss.”
Tony didn’t know what he was going to do about what just happened, but he could at least start by honouring Loki’s single request by giving Loki his silence.