I've already written a few chapters of this, and will most likely upload another one tomorrow. Loki does show up more prominently in later chapters, but, since it's from Tony's POV, the majority of it at first is mostly just him. With some, obviously, meaningful cameos from the God of Mischief.
If a disclaimer is really necessary, here it is: I don't own much of anything, and I especially don't own any of the copyrighted characters in this story.
Tony should have begun noticing months before it was shoved in front of his face. The first time there was a clue- one that, looking back, was a pretty damn big clue- was when the Avengers were fighting some guy that wanted to destroy all civilization. He was going on and on about how there were too many humans, and that their machines were going to destroy Mother Nature. Tony figured he was probably right, but he also made machines for a living, so fuck him. Besides, see that big tower in the center of New York? Clean energy, baby. He was reducing his carbon footprint through a technological marvel, and this guy still had the gall to bring up old nicknames and claim he was the reincarnation of Satan. And, yes, he was zeroing in on Tony, because he had a tendency to blow things up.
And, well, he may have had a point there.
Anyway, halfway through the fight (after he'd tried to 'reason' with the Avengers and get them on his side), the guy reveals he isn't so much of an anti-tech guy after all. At first, Tony figured it was a detonator. Which would have been bad, obviously, but the Avengers dealt with bomb-toting nut cases every other week. He didn't realize it was a NNEMP until he was heading straight down, limbs unable to even flail within the metal.
"Oh, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit." He decided he was allowed a mini-panic attack, especially as the others wouldn't be able to hear him and mock him about it later. If there were a later. He wondered whether they even noticed his descent, as the guy had some weird plant-creatures keeping them busy. He certainly couldn't warn them through the downed Com. Link in his suit.
He calculated that he probably had about ten seconds to reach the ground. He also calculated- although calculations weren't really necessary- that a fall from his height wouldn't just sprain an ankle.
He heard harsh laughter somewhere to the left, and then a familiar voice:
"Why, Thor, you can't even protect your playthings." He thought he might have heard Thor call his name before he felt- five seconds now- the body crash into his side.
"Man of Iron, are you harmed?" The booming voice demanded as he felt concrete- beautiful, beautiful non-splattering concrete- beneath him.
"Nah," he assured him. "-Just a NNEMP." As he remembered who he was talking to, he added, "A thing that cut off the power to my suit. I'm fine. Go get 'em, buddy." He felt Thor's departure more than he saw it (he wasn't really able to turn his head), and was benched for the rest of the battle. He was a bit miffed that he couldn't beat the hippie up, but decided that, all things considered, the day could have ended worse.
"Glad to see you didn't wander off." Barton, of course.
"Fuck you." He'd been sitting, motionless, for three hours. His sense of humor wasn't as in tact as the archer's. "Get me up."
"If you're upset, I can give you some alone time," Clint continued, and even if Tony couldn't look up to see his face, he could picture the grin. How he wanted to punch it.
"Oh, you know me better than that," Tony ground out. "I'm a social butterfly."
"You look like you're still in your cocoon there, Mr. Monarch." Clint told him, though he attempted to jerk Tony to his feet. "How long is this gonna last? For a cute little bug, you're pretty damn heavy."
"Then how about someone with muscles gets me home?" Tony retorted, trying to help but failing miserably. Clint was right: it wasn't light, and it was a pain.
"Thor has already had his fill of dragging you around." Clint informed him, still perky despite the challenge. "Cap got a nasty cut from one of those thorns, and Bruce isn't so angry anymore."
"And Natasha?" Tony questioned, finally pulled to his feet.
"She wasn't interested." Tony rolled his eyes, though he knew very well Clint couldn't see his face.
"Perfect. Okay, see on my back? Between the two shoulder blades?" He felt Clint move around back.
"I can't even figure out where your shoulder-blades are. You're, like, five inches taller than normal."
"Guess," Tony snapped, wishing he could cross his arms. "There should be two little slits."
"Got 'em." After about ten minutes of work, they'd managed to remove the more difficult pieces. Tony took the rest of the suit off himself, trying to ignore the grin he could now easily see.
"Jesus, is this like Christmas for you? Is this all you have to look forward to in your miserable life?" The grin, predictably, didn't waver.
"Guess why you're alive."
"Because my Mommy and Daddy got really drunk one night."
"Loki showed up and made fun of you. Thor noticed you falling because Loki was literally just laughing at you." Tony tried not to let the frustration show, but the glint in his friend's eyes made it clear just how badly he'd failed.
"Well, jokes on him because I didn't become a pancake. Maybe he'll learn to be less eager with the comedian routine." He ripped off the final piece, cringing as it tore a little bit of skin. Manually removing the suit always sucked, but at least he could hit Clint when he made another crack about his 'savior'. It didn't stop the assassin from laughing, and, after about an hour, it was difficult for Tony not to laugh along.
It was, after all, just a tiny bit funny.
He bet Loki was fuming.