I noticed that Loki's suicide attempt was never really touched upon all that much, which sort of bothered me? He let go of Gugnir KNOWING what would likely happen to him, and it pretty much goes unacknowledged. So...Tony pointing it out, because Tony!

Disclaimer: I don't own Marvel, because I'm not Disney.

"Do you ever stop and think about the fact that Loki tried to off himself?"

The question came out completely casual, but there was a certain way Tony phrased it that had Thor's attention ensnared. He looked up from the pan of hamburgers he was cooking and met his friend's eyes. There was a genuine interest in the ale colored orbs that was far too thought provoking and curious, their intense thirst for knowledge seemingly without end. There was little wonder why the mortal and his brother got along so well, though Loki was currently at the side of Steve Rogers, curled up on the couch while music played softly in the background. Even from his vantage point in the kitchen, Thor could see his smile, quiet but luminous as he spoke to the fellow Avenger, occasionally punctuating his words with an emphatic hand gesture. It was such a serene moment, Thor almost forgot Tony had asked a question of him. Almost.

"I know not of what you speak," Thor responded, far more gruffly than he'd initially intended. "My brother has never made a deliberate attempt upon his own life. Nor would he ever." Focusing on the crackling grease and sizzling burgers, he scooped them one by one out of the pan and placed them on the strange cloth covered grate Stark had set aside, then wiped his hands on a dish towel. Cooking wasn't an entirely foreign concept to him, but it required attentiveness that he feared he just couldn't muster now. Not when Tony was still watching him, but now with a sarcastic little smile that promised nothing but misery.

"You know what big guy? I could almost believe that. Loki's a narcissistic little shit on his best of days. It's hard to imagine him tolerating a single hair out of place, much less doing anything to actually hurt himself." Tony shoved a bottle of beer across the kitchen's bar top and nodded to the empty seat. "But that's not really true, is it? It's one thing to be temperamental. God knows your brother goes through more mood swings than a hormonal teenager. What we're talking about is something a lot more serious though. Suicide isn't something we take lightly here on Earth, attempted or otherwise."

Feeling the discontent pulse through his veins like a disgusting bile, Thor took a seat and snatched up the bottle, never once taking his gaze from the inventor. "Loki has enough crimes attached to his name already. Do not insult him with these baseless accusations, friend Stark, I will not stand for it."

"Hey, nobody's accusing anybody of anything. We're all friends here." Tony put his hands up in a placating manner and shrugged, taking a sip from his glass of scotch. "I'm just saying, when someone sinks so low that they think the only way out is death-that's pretty rough. And from what you've told us, Loki had every reason in the world to be feeling like shit. I mean, finding out you're adopted? That's sucks. But finding out you're the basic equivalent of devil's spawn, and the only family you've known your whole life has been lying to you for centuries? That's a pretty big fuck you. It's no wonder he-"

"My brother is no one's SPAWN!" The bottle shattered, spilling beer across Thor's hand, the marble counter. He barely noticed though. Every fiber of him thrummed with suppressed electricity and the threat of thunder as he delivered a sharp glare towards the other man. "Do not speak of things beyond your comprehension. Loki may not be of Asgard by blood, but he has always been family. He is every inch a son of Odin, the same as I!"

If Tony was surprised by the outburst, he did a good job at hiding it. "I get that you believe that, Point Break. And that's great. Really. Not many people could pull off the brotherly love thing like you do." Tony grabbed a dish towel off the far end of the counter and mopped up the spilled beer, the shards of glass callously brushed into the nearest trash can. "The thing is, your tender feelings don't change the past. You told us that you and Loki fought. You were hanging over the abyss. The same abyss that leads into the very bowels of deep space, past the point of no return. Which believe me, that's something I understand." Settling back in his chair, he focused a frighteningly serious look upon the thunderer. "Loki understood that too, and he still let GO, buddy. I don't know what you Asgardians call it, but down here that's a suicide attempt."

Rage bubbled up and strangled his tongue, making the only noise Thor capable of a garbled snarl. His clouded emotions were without proper explanation; all he knew was Stark, and how nicely his hand would fit around that tanned throat. "You dare speak of my brother in such a manner?!" Thor lunged across the bar and attempted to grab him, but Loki chose that exact moment to appear in the kitchen doorway. He knew, of course. The tension rippled in the air, thick and viscous as honey, leaving no question that something had happened. Thor choked his fury and slowly, painfully so, recoiled his hand back across the counter. "Brother," he forced a cheerful smile, "should you not be watching the movie?"

"Steven put it on pause. We were growing hungry." Loki looked over the two of them with suspicion in his viridian eyes. When he seemed to find nothing with Thor, he turned to Tony and cocked his head, uncertainty blooming in the pale green. "Anthony?"

To his credit, the man had a far more believable smile than anything Thor had to offer. He was someone used to lying, a fact that didn't entirely settle well with the thunderer. "Sorry Lokes. Sometimes I forget that you alien types have metabolisms faster than the speed of sound. The food's about done, give or take some extra condiments. You haven't lived until you've tried my extra spicy jalapeño sauce." Coming around the bar, Tony draped an arm around Loki's shoulders and guided him back towards the living room. "Be a dear and grab Spangles, will you? As the unofficial Betty Crocker of the tower, he should be in here to oversee the cooking process."

"…Of course. I'm sure he'll be delighted to be a part of your little bonding moment here."

The suspicion didn't dissipate, nor did it fade. But Loki still did as asked and vanished through the doorway, leaving Thor and Tony at a sort of standstill. Neither said another word, until the latter pointedly avoided walking within a five foot radius of the god and opened the fridge, grabbing bottles, jars, all sorts of things that rattled obscenely. Flustered, Thor turned his attention to the stove, a tidal wave of complex emotions pushing down on his shoulders. Finally, he couldn't help himself. He gripped the metal so hard that it warped beneath his fingers and bit out a terse threat. "My brother's interruption changes nothing. You were out of line. Speak again of this madness, and I will not hesitate to protect what is left of Loki's good name."

"If that's what helps you sleep at night. Just know that playing the denial game isn't good for you, or for Loki." Arms full of the various condiments, Tony bumped the fridge door shut and shrugged, though it was haphazard at best. "He knows what he did, even if he doesn't want to admit it. You aren't doing him any favors by pretending it never happened." He jerked his head towards the living room. "Grab the burgers. No point letting anyone starve." With that, he left the room, and Thor. The silence was chilling, unnervingly so, leaving him with nothing but the scent of fried meat and his thoughts. Thor wanted to avoid those, lest the sorrow and anger begin to cloud his mind anew. All he could do was do as Stark asked, and carry the food into the living room where the others were waiting. The others, and Loki.

"Brother…" Thor grit his teeth, snatching up the platter. He simply wouldn't think of it. Tony didn't understand anything, despite his protests. And yet…he remembered well the expression on Loki's face before he'd fallen. Blankness, then a chilling acceptance as his fingers slipped from Gugnir, plunging him into the starry blackness beneath their dangling forms. Nothing could have brought him back then. Not Thor's screams, his desperate attempts to claw at the air, drag his brother back from what he'd believed to be an unyielding fate. But he hadn't died? It was not all cut and dry. Perhaps Loki had known he'd survive the fall. It could've been a part of some mad scheme he'd concocted to be free of the ties weighing him down. Whatever it was, fate had changed things, saved his life, and now Thor had Loki back. The past was just that. There was no need to harp upon it any longer.

So why couldn't he chase away this harsh uncertainty that perhaps Tony was right after all?