General 20?👀
It had been 13 days, 5 hours, 7 minutes and 49 seconds since the Avengers had freed Tony from the mind control Loki had had over him.
There'd been no injuries, nothing that spoke of torture anywhere, not even the smallest scratch on his arms. If anything, then Tony Stark was the healthiest he's ever been.
That didn't make any sense, did it. He had been Loki’s puppet, his dear flying monkey, he ought to be hurt, right?
He was supposed to be angry, too.
Tony remembered laughter, banter flying back and forth, smiles.
The Avengers were careful around him, their eyes always on him. Watching. Suspicious.
JARVIS was – Tony didn't dare say back, because he wasn't although he'd done his best but he might have forgotten a password here and there, not wanting to let him return when the Avengers didn't trust him.
He wasn't sure whether Pepper trusted him either. To be fair, Tony was locked into his penthouse, going crazy there as people talk to him, about him, with him, over him, as if his input didn't matter.
Perhaps it didn't to them. As long as he was back, Iron Man once more a symbol for justice, Loki again no more than a villain.
Clint talked to him as if Loki was a monster, no better than the dirt in his shoes; Tony remembered Loki sharing cheeseburgers with him.
He missed the blue glow in one of his eyes when he stared into the mirror. They'd joked often that Tony was the only sane one left between them – even if it was only half of him.
Tony was still waiting for the moment to wake up, to go: "Fuck Loki." But it never came, and after two weeks of tenuous waiting, he was coming to the conclusion that it would never happen.
Stark Industries was booming. Pepper had declared Iron Man as a hostage of Loki, working against the United States against his will but that he was no longer associated with them – the company needed to do what was right, after all.
Its name was now Strong Enterprises, a minor homage to him and his family. Pepper had told him he could do blueprints, was still getting paid since he was de facto shareholder and not yet dead but he would no longer be able to make any decisions. It was, almost the same thing Obadiah had done to him, only for different reasons.
He hated how much he understood what she'd done and why.
He hated that he still loathed her for it.
It was early in the morning and he was drinking, toasting to the world and the people he once had considered as his.
There was no family left for him, too much time had passed and perhaps four months were too long to pretend everything was fine. Tony knew what he'd done. He knew what Loki was planning on doing but he didn't say, claiming oblivion. Clint hadn't remembered much either, that was his advantage. But they still pressured him.
They still demanded of him to despise Loki, to work, to sit quietly in the corner as they played great warriors of justice. He wasn't allowed outside. Perhaps, in their eyes, he was no better than Caillou.
Tony wanted nothing more than to run from this place. Go somewhere. Have—
Someone rapped against his door.
Clint walked inside, his face spoke of merry making, the rest of him of serious business inquiries only. Pay $4.99 to unlock premium features now.
"Is that vodka? At 7 in the morning?"
"Yes," Tony muttered. "Want some? I mean, I drank straight from the bottle, but who cares."
"...No, thanks," Clint replied, enthusiasm waning like a dying star.
That reminded Tony he'd promised Loki to take him to a blockbuster, right? Something with the beauty of the ocean, because that's where the cool stuff was happening. Octopus, rumours of leviathan fish - not that the ones Loki had were any less cool, but they were alien and Tony wanted to brag with earth. Capiche?
"How are you, Tony?"
"Bored." He threw Clint a look. "You guys sure I still can't go play?"
"Sadly." Clint gave him a pat on the shoulder. "You were under for four months, Tony. We don't know how that affects you."
"House arrest is affecting me." Tony lifted the bottle. "Listen, unless you have any good news – shoo."
Clint sighed and left.
Tony thought the 5$ investment hadn't been worth it. Bad business only in this house.
Good business so far had only been Loki. Funny, how that went.
But Tony missed the easiness of their relationship, how they went with their usual frenzy to work, tried to get Earth under control, had fun here and there, went and got sushi in Bangladesh the next moment. The energy that was fuelling him, more so than his desire to kiss Loki—
And his heart was beating rapidly in his chest, the rips almost breaking with the force of the frequency. Longing was spreading through him, his eyes filling with tears, breath short and sharp.
Why was he even still here?
Nobody knew what to do with him.
Nobody knew Loki the way Tony did – there was so much more behind the mask he was wearing, endless voids and abyss that Tony missed staring into, their endless green and blue whirls of mystery and mischief.
Tony got up from where he was sitting, left for his bedroom, pulled on his cap, good running shoes. He had salt in his kitchen, and other stuff he needed to create a bomb.
They wouldn't see it coming, would they? And it wasn't as if Tony was trying to harm them, he was just—
Breaking out.
Yep.
He let a bath run as he went to work, so no du would suspect anything and the bath was the only room where no cameras were installed for privacy reasons, only sound. But Tony had jerked off often enough while showing that he hoped they were not, you know, actively listening.
Fuck, did he know what he was doing there? But Tony could only answer the question with yes, and he kept going. Whoever Tony Stark could have been four months ago, he was buried, evolved into something else. Life was funny, sometimes.
Half an hour later, and Tony was ready. The computers were all turned down.
He opened his door with no difficulties, sent a short prayer to Loki in the hope the idiot would hear it, then threw the bomb down the stairs.
Hopefully nobody had been thinking of using the staircases now. But it was 7 in the morning, nobody was up at these unholy hours except for to go training which was 6 to 8, Tony regularly invited every third day to be included again in team activities.
Perhaps this would make it easier for them to let go of him, not chase him again. Tony didn't want to return. He didn't want to be a happy family with them. Not when his heart was beating for the other side.
The bomb went off, as did the alarms. Tony took the elevator, pressed the button for the garage and went down. Here was to hoping the elevator had survived the explosion—
But he arrived downstairs without any disturbance. He took a car key from the pad, ignored the people running around like wild horses, trying to get away from here.
As long as he pretended he was supposed to be here, nobody was going to stop him.
And perhaps there was a lot of luck involved too, because Tony took the red Audi that belonged to the key, got behind the wheel and hit the gas pedal.
He was born to be a driver, mathematical calculations were running through his mind as he kept driving, circled around the others who certainly have never driven in Italy and learnt to survive on the road.
Half an hour later and Tony stepped out of the cab, gave the driver a $50 note and walked the last few miles per foot. The other cars he'd used were happily taking a break at various parking lots, possibly taking a bath in a river nearby.
You didn't use only ever one car when you were escaping, and stealing a car was almost as easy as hacking into Putin's humble abode.
The motel was dirty, absolutely disgusting to look at from the outside, but the staff let Tony in without question. Some were waving at him, remembering his easy jokes and generous art with tips.
The inside was something else entirely; fancy decorations, some subtle gold and silver here and there, paintings that were modern art and some historical ones as well.
Tony was nervously licking over his lips, about to ask where Loki was when his Reindeer Games walked down the stairs.
"Missed me?" Tony asked cheekily, hiding his nervousness.
"You came back," was Loki’s response, frowning at him.
"Yeah." Tony gave a shrug. "Didn't enjoy being an Avenger, you know."
"The explosion was from you then?"
"They grounded me." Tony rolled his eyes. "I had to get out somehow. That being said, after I'm of a completely sane mind now – can I kiss you now? Is that okay? Or did I misread the whole situation? Because let me tell you, I don't think I can go back to the Avengers. You might be settled with me now."
Loki’s mouth formed a wonderfully shaped "O", all pretty and gorgeous, and Tony rolled his eyes at the drama of the situation, before he grabbed his alien at the suit lapels, and kissed him.
