Tony stays true to his promise. Exiting the door to the infirmary he instructs JARVIS not to let anyone else inside save Bruce or himself, unless, of course, they had permission. He plops himself down in a chair outside the door, wishing for coffee and an excuse to run away from everything. He sits staring into space for all of 26 full seconds before he whips out his Starkpad, beginning to make some security modifications to the Tower and send in requests to fix the hole in his floor as well as the broken window. JARVIS alerts him that the other Avengers save for  Bruce are making their way up to the infirmary by the elevator which he groans at, dreading having to face their questions and judgment.

"Has Fury left yet?"

"Yes, Sir. Director Fury departed exactly 8 minutes ago." 

"Cool, at least that's not proving to be a problem yet." 

He wants a nap.

As promised, the elevator doors from down the hallway chime, and out stride Natasha, face impassive as ever, followed by a red-faced Clint and solemn-looking Thor and Steve. Natasha stops next to Tony's chair and takes a seat in front of him, leaning down so that her elbows touch her knees and propping her head up with her hands. Steve and Tony remain standing to the side awkwardly until they also take their seats, Clint apparently electing to pace back and forth. Tony doesn't look up, instead of focusing on the Starkpad in his hands, frowning: he'd forgotten to fill the only coffee pot on this floor. Crap.

Steve is the first to speak, clearing his throat before he asks in a hushed voice, "How is he?" Tony sighs dramatically, finally looking up and shutting down the Starkpad,

"Fucked," was all he offers in response, not in any mood to be compliant. Steve huffs, "Seriously Tony, how is he?"

"I dunno," Tony shrugs, "he doesn't believe anything I'm telling him. Keeps saying that nothing is real."

"Let me talk to him," Natasha all but orders. Tony shoots her a look, 

"Are you going to fuck with his head, 'cause I'm telling you that's the last thing he needs," Clint scoffs. Natasha says nothing, only stares at Tony, expression firm. Tony sighs, this time for real, and stood up, walking to the door.

"Everyone else, get out, go somewhere, get shitfaced, I don't care just don't be here," Tony snaps, surveying the room. Clint opens his mouth to argue, but Steve simply guides his shoulder towards the exit firmly, pushing Thor along too. I'm going to have to like...create some kind of alcohol you can actually get drunk off for this, Cap. 

"We'll come back later," he assures. Tony rolls his eyes, "Yeah, yeah, whatever," before opening the door for Natasha.

-oOo-

When Natasha walks into the infirmary, shutting the door behind her despite Tony's glare following her every move, she's met with a very different Loki than she'd seen in battle. He's laying in a hospital bed wearing a white medical gown and covered by a thin white blanket, though the edges are stained slightly with blood. His hair isn't as slicked back as it had been when she'd last seen him. Although it desperately needs to be washed it frames his face quite nicely. There are dark, shaded circles underneath his eyes, which are haunted, and stared back at her with an aura of fear and suspicion.

"Hello, Loki," Natasha greets him, glancing over the screens in the corner of the room to get a further grasp on his injuries. He offers her no response. Tony had sarcastically suggested that she wrap the wounds on his wrists, as Bruce had left them to "show him something", and while Natasha knew he hadn't been serious, she decides to do so. She pulls the wheeled medical tray from beside Loki's bed closer to her, settling down in a chair beside him. Loki's eyes snapped to the tray, wide and terrified.

"Please, I'm sorry," he whimpers, and Natasha quickly gathers that he thought she was attempting to harm him. She shakes her head very slowly, giving him a warm smile as though he were a frightened child. 

"I'm not going to hurt you Loki, I just want to bandage your wrists, but only if that's okay with you," she adds the last part as an afterthought, and when his eyes fill with confusion her answer to Clint's earlier question becomes clear in her mind: Loki is innocent, she doesn't even have to ask. The bitter rage that had seeped from his figure, accented with narcissistic confidence is too stark a difference from the two dull green orbs reflecting exhausted fear and paranoia back at her now, broken and almost fragile-looking in a way that almost made her want to flee in fear of damaging him further.

"We don't have to do that if you're not comfortable with it," she assures him, pushing the tray away to emphasize her point. For a second Loki hesitates, and then, as though testing the waters, he whispered, "I-I don't want to...please."

Natasha nods and gave him another comforting smile as she rises to push the tray away further. She returns to her seat with another blanket, offering it to the god who gingerly accepts. Tony's eyes burn into her from his stance a few feet away. 

"Why are you being...kind to me? I just tried to kill you," Loki asks softly, his voice scratchy. His eyes are tired, dull, and dead-looking, as though he'd given up any fire of a fight left inside him.  Natasha hands him a paper cup full of water, only to have it eyed suspiciously by Loki.

"It's not poisoned," she assures him. "And actually, correct me if I'm wrong, but I don't think you did," Loki's eyes fill with tears, "I'm sorry," he cries, frantically trying to blink them away to no use. "I-I should have been stronger...I should have...I know I should have I-I just wanted it to stop...I'm so sorry please!" Before Natasha can even formulate a response Tony's voice behind her cuts in as he quickly strides over to the chair on Loki's other side.

"It's not your fault." He says, his tone once again serious. 

Natasha takes real pride in the way she carries herself. She's dark, mysterious, an enigma that never lets people know what's going on underneath. That was how she'd learned to survive, and they had made sure she learned it well in the Red Room. Her display of emotion has been a failure on her part, and it scares her. She isn't supposed to feel, she isn't supposed to react with anything but cold calmness. But perhaps what unnerves her the most is Tony Stark. She'd falsely assumed he had no serious side to him. At least, nothing strong enough to form into this. He had nothing left to fight for besides Pepper but even then he'd let Pepper slip through his fingers and showed no care in the world. After the time she spent with him she'd assumed his torture had broken any fragment of normality left within him and assumed he would always remain the arrogant, selfish playboy he always seemed to be. But his seemingly random protective streak for Loki of all people has thrown her for a loop. She isn't supposed to miss these things. Especially not with someone she's watched for a while now. She's supposed to be one step ahead of everyone all the time. But Tony's done a complete 180 without a single warning and he doesn't seem to be backing out of it. She needs to get a hold of herself.

Natasha rises slowly, nodding her head to Tony to silently tell him she'd gotten what she'd needed. Loki is innocent, yet another thing she had missed. She silently leaves the infirmary to report her findings to Fury. She knew he trusted her judgment. Without this knowledge, he might attempt something against Loki, and if what Steve and Thor said was true, the last thing they needed was both Tony and Loki on the other side. 

Though, quite honestly she lacked solid confidence that Fury wouldn't attempt something against Loki anyways. 

-oOo-

With Natasha gone, a bit of the nervous pressure around his throat releases, and Tony thinks he'll be able to say what he needs to. He can't mess this up, not so soon. 

Pepper had tried, she really had. But she didn't understand. No one did. Tony knew part of that was his own fault, it always was. He could have just talked to her. But he couldn't do that. He couldn't risk losing her. Of course, he had, in a way, after all. But if he'd told her how screwed up he was, Tony was sure he would have lost her sooner. Instead, he rode out the panic attacks on his own, the nightmares alone, the breakdowns in the shower because he just couldn't stand the feel of water on his head, the days of no sleep and copious amounts of coffee, the months when it would take all the strength he had just to hold a few bites of food down because everything tasted like sand and paper and blood in his mouth. He'd suffered alone and he'd wanted to die and no one had been there to hold him. Loki would not have to be alone ever again.

"It's not your fault." He repeats when Loki opens his mouth to protest. "I promise." Loki goes from crying to snarling in less than a second.

"How would you know? I shouldn't have broken but I'm weak! That's all I've ever been and now your planet paid the price! Th-Thor he knew! He knew! He hated me! I was weak and he knew! They all knew! He knew!" Loki is shrieking now, tugging at his hair as he wails. Tony swallows thickly before he gently pries Loki's hands away from his hair.

"Let me go! Let me go! Please! Please let me go!" He's screaming now, red-tinged spit flying from his mouth as he squirms as best he can in his weakened state against Tony's hold.

"Loki, stop, stop please you're gonna hurt yourself," Tony warns him, keeping his light grip above the injuries on Loki's wrists.

"I-I was tortured once too." Tony blurts out, cursing himself for saying anything at first until Loki stills, chest heaving and blood beginning to show through the bandages but at least he'd stopped struggling.

"I-I've never...I've never told anyone about it. I didn't want them to...I dunno I'm not good with words, I'm sorry but I want to do this right. I, I didn't want them to look at me differently. It-it wasn't as bad as you judging by injuries alone, I know, and not nearly as long it seems. Um, I was in Afghanistan. I used to build missiles and stuff for the Air Force. Um, that's like our army, er-warriors maybe, but they fly with machines in"

"I know what your Air Force is. I have kept up with the histories of all the realms, I'm not daft like Thor." Loki interjects softly. Tony doesn't think he's heard Loki speak normally until now, as the god has always either been snarling with rage or choked by fear. His voice is smooth, gentle like a soft melody for a sacred lullaby. Tony brightens somewhat at his words.

"Oh good, that makes shit easier. Well, uh, okay, so my company used to make missiles for the Air Force and I was in Afghanistan testing my new Jericho middle for the Air Force. It was successful, obviously, so we were traveling back to the Bagram Air Base. We were attacked by a terrorist group, um, they were called the..the Ten Rings." Tony cleared his throat. "Um, well I tried to make a run for it, but one of my own missiles detonated...near me. Um. I-I woke up..I-in a cave." He clenches his fists. "And-and I-I remember a little bit, bits and pieces of the operation. They did open-heart surgery on me without any anesthesia. 'Cause-uh, because I got hit. Damaged my heart, pieces flew into it. I-I remember screaming and-and it..oh god it hurt, it hurt so fucking bad. I-I woke up, and they'd...they'd hooked me up to a car battery that kept the shrapnel from reaching my heart and killing me." He taps at the arc reactor through his shirt. "This, um, we made this later on. We, uh, Ho Yinsen." Tony squeezes his eyes shut and buries his head in his hands. There's a moment where all he can hear is his harsh breathing before a soft poke on his hand startles him.

"You don't have to tell me," Loki whispers. Tony stared at him, seeing something he hadn't actually expected; understanding. 

"Yes, yes I do. Yinsen...he, he and I built the arc reactor so I wouldn't have to carry the car battery everywhere with me. They wanted us to build a Jericho missile for them. I-I said no. I couldn't. The soldiers that had been with me. They...they were so young. They died. All of them. Those fuckers had my weapons. Hurting people with them. I couldn't give them the Jericho. Couldn't fuel terrorists. So...they took me, um, and they shoved my head underwater and held it there...I-until-I-I couldn't...I thought I was going to die and the car battery kept sparking and they wouldn't let me breathe and-" Tony takes another deep breath before he continues. "I said yes. I had to make it stop. But they were really stupid, and Yinsen and I build the Iron Man suit instead. But...he didn't make it out. We ran out of time and he-he didn't...didn't make it." Tony focuses on taking deep breaths. There's silence for a few moments.

"Why did you tell me that?" Loki asks softly. There was no snarl to his voice anymore, only a tired curiosity, and that soft understanding. Tony sighs. 

"Because, um, well when I got home, I didn't tell anyone. I mean, they knew. Fury did at least. I told him the bare minimum and denied the offer for therapy and I shut Pepper, um, we were, something I guess, I shut her out. I couldn't tell them, I couldn't say it, I couldn't risk them leaving. I thought they would think I was weak, or, I dunno I guess. I couldn't sleep, I couldn't eat, I shut myself in my lab and that was that. I couldn't go near water. Later, when it wasn't so fresh, when I could...when I could walk into the bathroom again, I would see my reflection at night and...I saw the same look in your eyes. And, that was hell. I wish I'd had someone but I..." Tony swallowed. "I won't let you do that alone." He finishes softly, staring at his hands. There was silence, then a soft sniffle. Then another. Suddenly Loki was crying again.

"I'm always alone," He chuckles wetly, wrapping his arms around himself. Tony shakes his head, biting his lip, knowing full well that this could end badly for him before gently embracing the god. Loki tenses at first, shaking before he melts in Tony's arms and sobs.

"Yeah, not anymore."