Getting Loki to the kitchen is not an easy feat. Even with his arm around Tony's shoulders for support, he shakes and stumbles and nearly falls to the ground time and time again. When they reach the kitchen, Tony can't throw him in a chair fast enough. He can't keep holding this guy up like that.
Loki collapses into the seat, his legs giving out from under him. His head falls forward, and a few strands of his greasy hair fall in his face, though he doesn't seem to mind. His shoulders slump, and his legs sprawl out in front of him like a ragdoll.
"Alright," Tony says, "let's see what we've got."
He heads to the pantry and looks inside. He's got a lot of junk in here, but nothing really jumps out at him. He supposed he could try saltine crackers. Those are good for an upset stomach. He has some bread, too; he could make toast. He might have applesauce in the fridge, too, as a last-ditch effort, but he'd kind of like to save the applesauce for himself if he can.
Tony sighs and turns around. "Alright, what do you want? Toast?"
"I don't care," Loki mumbles.
"Toast it is," Tony says.
He takes out two slices of bread and pops them in the toaster. He leaves the rest of the loaf on the counter, but he has a feeling it will go unused for now. He's not trying to get the guy to vomit it all back up.
Actually...
Tony grabs the trashcan and slides it next to Loki's chair. "Do not puke on my floor."
"Mm," Loki hums in response.
Tony leans against the counter to wait for the toast to be ready. He's not exactly eager to make small talk with the guy who threw him out the window only days earlier, so they wait in silence.
Without warning, Loki cries out and clutches his head. Every muscle in his body tenses. He whimpers quietly, holding himself with an iron-tight grip.
Tony folds his arms over his chest to watch. He's not so much sympathetic as he is intrigued. He's never seen a headache like this, and he hasn't exactly been staring at the security footage since he realized the guy was too messed up to leave. He's not quite sure what to expect. How long will it last? Will it get better, or will it just get worse and worse?
He doesn't let go of his head until he hears the toast pop up. Even then, he seems almost reluctant to do it, and his hands slowly make their way down to his sides.
Tony grabs the toast from the toaster, muttering a quiet, "Hot, hot," under his breath as he plops them down on a plate, and drops them on the table. Loki slowly, carefully slides his chair toward the table, and, after a very frustrating 15 seconds, Tony walks up behind him and pushes him in all the way.
Loki breaks off a small piece of the toast and holds it up in front of him. His face contorts in disgust, and he shakes his head to himself, putting it back down.
Tony cocks a brow. "What, not a toast fan?"
"I cannot eat this," Loki tells him.
"And why the hell not?" Tony asks.
"Because I will vomit it back up."
Tony rolls his eyes. "Loki. It's toast. It's probably the one thing you wouldn't vomit back up."
Loki pushes the plate away from himself. "I am not eating this."
"Oh my god," Tony groans. He pinches the bridge of his nose. "You haven't eaten anything in days. Eat the goddamn toast."
"No."
Tony lolls his head back, exasperated. "Look, I'm gonna be totally real with you right now: I do not care whether you live or die. I don't care if you're happy or if you're comfortable. But if Thor comes back and you haven't eaten a single bite of anything, I'm the one that's gonna get in trouble, so eat something."
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Still Holding On
قصص الهواة"I have built dozens of holes in this plan," Loki hisses. "Find them." When Loki tries to sabotage his own plan, the only reasonable explanation Tony can think of is that he wants to go back to Asgard, and that alone is more than enough reason to ke...
