Spooky Action at a Distance | Frostiron

Friends Will Be Friends

Earth wasn't the same. Everywhere he looked there was pain and suffering. What once seemed so light was now dark. Dull. Boring. Everything was boring. Not worth his time. Not worth his effort. Nothing was okay. Nothing was good. Nothing could ever be okay. What little hope he had was gone, disappeared within seconds. Never to come back.

Funeral was done. First one, anyway. No word from Odin. No word on his execution date. Loki promised he'd stay alive. He couldn't help it if he was sentenced to death. He knew that death wouldn't end the suffering. Death wasn't the end. No. It was a new beginning. More time to suffer. Realistically, death wasn't the best option for that reason. More suffering. He knew that first hand. But then there was the issue of staying alive. He didn't want to do that either. So he had two options

Forget or sleep.

Did he want to forget? Did he want to forget about Tony? Could he do that? Or Frigga? What about the memories with them? Even if he remembered those memories, he would still be struck by grief. Sleeping... that would work. He wouldn't be conscious. He wouldn't be able to feel. An infinite void of nothing.

Two options. Magic or practical. He could find a spell. He knew a spell. Yes. How could he forget about that spell? That spell was dangerous. It would trap him in a state between unconscious and death. Weird dreams, but he could live with that. Well, he wouldn't be living. Or then there was the other way. No weird dreams but a chance of waking up, whether that be in life or death. Was that an option?

Nothing made sense. Everything was dark. Black and white. No more green. No more gold. No more red. Black and white. Boring. Bland. Everything he hated. Everything he despised. Nothing he wanted to see. Nothing worth living through.

Funeral. Another. Quaint. Of course, he hid. He didn't want to be seen. He went out of respect. It was full of Shield agents. Loki stayed invisible. He wasn't close to Natasha, but she was a good person. She was kind. She didn't hate him. She respected him.

Red. Lots of red. Roses. Carpet. Ribbon. Red wood casket.

Red ledger.

Crying. Not from Fury though. Fury was stoic.

It was a never ending cycle. Was it worth it? Loki didn't see the point. What was the point of crying? What did it accomplish? What did it do? It didn't help. It didn't bring anyone back. All of the crying, all of the pleas to bring them back, it wouldn't work. Nothing ever worked. So why keep trying?

Loki didn't hang around. It would be a death sentence if he stayed. As soon as it was over, he went to the tower. No one would find him there. Not for a while. He assumed they had until the funeral before anyone came to the tower. The lab, specifically. The lab...

The reactor was still on a table. A bottle of whiskey was to the side, half empty, it having been given up. A gauntlet. Silver. One he recognised from Tony working on it before. He wanted to add better repulsers, ones that would react faster.

React.

He reacted without checking. Tony reacted without thought. Two mistakes that ended with death. The death of the wrong person. It should've been him.

It should've been him.

He felt something tap his foot, making him look down. A small circular disk. It made a small beep, as if an apology, before speeding away. No dust. Clean. It cleaned. Clean bot, he remembered. It kept beeping, a small, consistent beep. Loki didn't know what it meant. Tony didn't write it down. He didn't make a note of it. The room was his note.

Every little bit was Tony. Made by him. Loved by him. The whole room was Tony's legacy. Legacy far greater than the human had ever imagined. The endless questions that now filled the world were nothing more than annoying.