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Chapter Text

Present day

“Mr and Mrs Odinson,” Dr Eir said, striding into the office where Loki and Sif were already seated, their hands intertwined nervously on Sif’s lap.  The salt-and-pepper-haired doctor flipped through a clipboard, her lips pinched into a thin line. She adjusted her glasses and sat down across from them behind a dark mahogany table, slowly setting the file down. She cleared her throat and clasped her hands together on the desk. “Unfortunately, I don’t have good news for you.”

***

Twelve months earlier

“I will destroy you all!”

Loki glanced up from his book, as he sat in the shade of the great fig tree in his mother’s back garden, and caught sight of a gap-toothed blond boy declaring war on his friends. Loki chuckled at the oh-so-familiar sight. Whatever influence Jane has as the rambunctious boy’s mother, you could only do so much to tame the wildness that is Thor’s bloodline.

The skies were an unusually bright blue, fending off any cloud that dared to besmirch it’s perfection on a warm May afternoon. Given the unseasonably warm weather and the beautiful sunshine, it did not take much for Thor’s children to convince grandma Frigga that they should have a garden party. A party that quickly devolved from just a small family gathering to a sprawling event filled with family and friends from all walks of life, gathering around numerous picnic tables laid out with an assortment of delicious summer platters. There were a few of Frigga’s friends from her charity work, and a few of Odin’s more personable business associates, but the rest were all an assortment of family and loved ones throughout the ages: Thor and his family, Volstagg’s brood, Fandral and his latest lady-friend, Hogun and his even quieter partner, Val’s family, Darcy, and the indomitable Sif. His Sif.

A small smile stretched across Loki’s lips, as he saw Sif chat and laugh with Frigga. She had always been close with the family, ever since she and her parents had moved in next door when Sif had still been a little imp. He watched the two most important women in his life sparkle with easy love and knew without a doubt that Sif was the daughter Frigga had always wanted. And had gotten, he thought with a wry smile, glancing down at the golden band wrapped around his ring finger. How quickly two years had flown by.

Sif turned a little to watch half of Volstagg’s brood be chased across the garden by Thor’s gap-toothed eldest, Magni, the self-proclaimed destroyer of all and caught Loki’s eye. She grinned at him, gesturing him to come over, but he shook his head. Instead, he curled a lazy finger at her and patted the soft green blanket he had nestled into. He tilted his head. Challenge issued.

Sif quickly excused herself, disappearing from the centre of the festivities, and sauntered over to Loki, a light breeze drawing her red and white summer dress close to her skin like a goddess in a Renaissance painting. She was Venus on a seashell, she was Artemis with a bow and arrow, she was hunting and she had already caught him.

She came to a stop in front of him, the hem of her dress stroking against the fabric of his trousers, and raised her eyebrows.

“You know, you really ought to get up before you start growing roots,” she murmured, as he caught her hand.  

“Maybe I should, but there is something nice about the shade,” Loki murmured. Hidden behind the curtain of her skirt, he pressed a kiss to the back of her hand, enjoying how something as simple could still bring colour to her cheeks.

“Loki…”

He hummed and tugged gently until she plopped down beside him, her dress fanning around her.

“You should really join the party,” Sif remarked, as he wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her ever so slightly closer. “Everyone’s been asking why you’re brooding under a tree, and I don’t even believe myself when I say your law textbook is engrossing.”

Loki chuckled.

“I’m not brooding, but maybe I just lack the right incentive,” he murmured, shutting the book in his lap and giving her a lop-sided grin.

“Ah what, pray tell, is the incentive you’re looking for?” Sif asked, eyeing him warily.

He pursed his lips in mock-thought, and leant closer.

“You look beautiful, have I mentioned that yet?”

"Now I know something is fishy,” she chuckled. “What are you up to?"

“Whyever would I be up to something?” Loki asked innocently, setting his book aside, and turning to her.

“Because you’re always up to something, Silvertongue.”

He laughed, grinning at the old nickname, and took her hand in his.

"Well, my lady…” he whispered against the crook of her neck. “Beyond the shade, the fig tree is also very comfortable for other activities..."

She snorted.

"And what exactly did you have in mind while in full view of your entire family and everyone we know?"

He chuckled, his lips ghosting over her jaw, her ear, her cheekbone, before settling on top of her head. He pressed a soft kiss to her hair and hummed.

"I’m only scheming to steal a little kiss."

She turned then, looking at him properly. His eyes were dancing with amusement.

"Is that a challenge?" She asked, the corner of her mouth quirking up.

"Only if you want it to be..." he said nonchalantly, playing with her fingers.

"You know I never back down from a challenge..."

"Is that why you married me? To have a constant stream of challenges?"

"I’ve never been bored, " she shrugged, but couldn’t keep a straight face.

"I will try to keep it that way," he promised, faux-ardently pressing their entwined hands against his heart.

“Big words from a man who won’t even get up,” she pointed out.

“Perhaps, bu-“

A gaggle of cheering children ran past, no longer being chased by Magni, but now chasing him together.

“Nooooo!” Magni yelled, as Astrid, Val’s daughter tackled him straight into a shrub.

“Oh dear,” Loki chuckled, “How the tables have turned.”

The older children all leapt over to their felled foe and started piling on for an extended tickle attack.

“No! Have mercy! Mercy, please!”

Far behind everyone else Thor’s youngest, Magnus, toddled along passing in front of the fig tree, rushing as fast as his tiny legs would let him. Huffing and puffing he came to a stop by Loki’s side, looking distraught.

“Now, now, Magnus, you’re nearly there,” Loki murmured, letting go of Sif and pulling the toddler into his arms. The boy’s face scrunched up, as he reached up for Loki’s shirt. “This is no time to give up,” Loki promised, bouncing him in his arms.

Sif watched as the little boy’s face transformed, the sad pucker and tiny fists disappearing, and being replaced by hiccup-like laughs and happy slaps, as Loki whispered into the toddler’s ear and rubbed his back. Warmth blossomed in her chest. Loki might like to play aloof and disinterested in the goings on of so many things, but there was not a single child at the gathering that hadn’t been enthralled by him at some point. Even Volstagg’s brood had been known to sit still and pay close attention during Uncle Loki’s Storytime.

“Looks like someone is feeling better,” Sif hummed, as a tiny hand extended towards her from over Loki’s shoulder. She reached across to stroke Magnus’ little tufts of brown hair and smiled as the boy tried to pull her hand down into his mouth. She laughed, freeing her fingers, and leaned in to press a kiss to the boy’s wispy hair.

Loki glanced over his shoulder and felt his heart squeeze just a little harder, work a little faster, fight a little longer.

This could be their future. The two of them fussing and doting over a tiny human being who was wholly their own. A little girl that would have dollops of her fearlessness and strength, and a small dash of his wits. Or a little boy that with his head buried deep in books, while being as fiercely loyal as Sif.

Or maybe someone wholly unexpected.

What a beautiful thought.

Loki shifted Magnus and pressed a lingering kiss to her cheek. She blinked, instinctively reaching up to touch the ghost of his lips.

“What was that for?”

Loki shrugged.

“Do I need to have a reason?” he hummed innocently, being the perfect picture of the exact opposite of innocence.  

She narrowed her eyes. He was up to something, but there was a strange serenity to him. Maybe it wasn’t something to be worried about… Who was she kidding? She was going to worry anyway.

“What do you want?” she asked slowly.

His lips stretched into a wide grin, glancing between her and Magnus.

“Oh, nothing important,” he said nonchalantly, passing her the toddler.

She took him into her arms, letting him nestle against her for a moment, before he began squirming again, insisting to be set down. As soon as she set him onto the blanket, Magnus rushed off for his next round of chasing friends.

She huffed a small laugh, watching the boy toddle off again, as Loki slowly wrapped his arms around her waist from behind. He rested his chin on her shoulder, and hummed contently, the sound rumbling through his chest.

“It’s amazing that Thor and Jane managed to ever make something as sweet-natured as Magnus. Are we sure he’s not a foundling?” Loki remarked, earning himself a small slap to the arm.

“Just you wait,” Sif said, “a couple of years down the line he will be terrorizing all his cousins…”

“Oh, I’m sure you’re righ-“

Wait, a minute… Loki blinked. Jane didn’t have any siblings, so did that mean…?

His cousins would be our children.

“Well,” Loki cleared his throat. His grasp loosened a little so that she could turn in his arms, “I suppose, we’ll need to get started on making those cousins…”

“Oh?” Sif inhaled sharply, but the shock quickly gave way to delight. Their lives would always be busy, and there would never be a perfect time to have a kid, but they could manage it. Especially since everyone would be tripping over themselves to see what sort of whirlwind would result from them. “I suppose that would probably be a good idea,” she said quietly, though she could not help the wolfish grin that settled over her features.

His eyes glittered with mischief.

“When do we start?”

***

Present day

“Unfortunately, I don’t have good news for you,” Doctor Eir said slowly. The middle-aged woman shifted in her seat, not quite meeting either of their eyes for a moment. She glanced down at the chart again, her lips pressed into a thin frown.

They both tensed, their grips on their entwined hands tightening. Loki held his breath despite his heart beating like it was trying to win a race. But there would be no winning, right? The doctor had said there was no good news, which naturally meant that there was bad news, and bad news was terrible news, which meant that- which meant that one of them-

Who was the problem?

Dr Eir took an agonisingly slow breath.

Spit it out! Loki wanted to scream, but he couldn’t. He must not move a single muscle otherwise… otherwise…

"Mr Odinson,” the doctor said, finally making eye contact with him. “I’m very sorry to say, it seems that your chances of fathering a child are very unlikely."

Chapter Text

The world passed by in a blur of concrete and tarmac, the colours had been leeched away into some dark corner that refused to give them up again. Loki sat in the passenger seat of his Mercedes, having been corralled by Sif to hand over the keys after the appointment. It hadn’t taken much persuading, as his entire body felt leaden and heavy. He fought the urge to just give way to gravity and lie facedown on the ground, and hide from reality. Instead, he eventually found himself strapped into the car.

 Your chances of fathering a child are very unlikely.

The words reverberated around his head over and over again. What a cruel twist of irony that the man with two fathers, one who had not wanted him and the other who had not known how to love him, could not right the wrongs that were done unto him for a child of his own. A child he had hoped would get to feel all the love he had always dreamt of.

Your chances are unlikely. Your chances. You.

It was all his fault. Of course, it was.

Everything was always his fault. And now he had definitive proof that not only was he inferior to Thor, against whom he had spent years of his life measuring himself against, but he was also inferior to over 90% of men trying to conceive. All this time he had prized how distinguished he was, always in the top 10% at everything he truly set his mind to, but naturally, he failed at what he wanted the most. For himself, for Sif, for their family. The bud of their family was pruned before it could even dare to grow.

He itched to glance at Sif, but stopped himself, knowing that the moment he looked at her she would ask him how he was, and though his self-control had served him well over the years, he wasn’t sure whether he could open his mouth without falling apart. He needed time. Lots of it. He needed to get a grip of himself, but it was always easier said than done. Especially knowing that he was the source of all their unhappiness. Him, and him alone.

He was the reason Sif would have to fight another unnecessary battle, a protracted new one alongside all her other battles. He was the reason they would have to keep going through relentless treatments and procedures. He was the reason why nothing could ever be easy for them.

If he could have shrunk into himself without setting alarm bells blaring in Sif’s mind, he would have, but this entire situation did not only affect him, and he couldn’t just curl up into a ball and disappear, not when Sif was also bound to be hurting. He hadn’t asked her yet, but he didn’t have to. They had both wanted a child. They had both been swept up in the possibilities and the dreams. Hadn’t it only been two days ago when they passed a baby clothes shop, and found themselves bickering over colour schemes (he preferred greens, she loved bright reds) and onesies with one-liners? Hadn’t it only been three months since they had short-listed a dozen names that they had just about been able to agree on after a series of pancake bribes on either side?

Loki picked at the inside of his palm. He frowned.

He had failed Sif.

Perhaps his birth parents had done the right thing by dumping him as a child. He was useless to anyone who had the misfortune to love him…

He rested his head against the cool glass of the car window and shut his eyes. With any luck, if he tried hard enough the entire world disappear and all his worries would melt away.

Unfortunately, luck was never on his side.

Sif watched Loki from the corner of her eyes throughout their drive home. Though her official priority was keeping her eye on the road, her gaze kept drifting to Loki, like a moth to light. He was turned away from her, and though he wasn’t allowing his devastation to shine through openly, she could sense it like prey sensing the eyes of a predator. He lacked the vigour and sharpness that usually exuded from him. Even his prickly wit had disappeared with one swift blow, and she wasn’t sure what to do. She had never seen him like this before. Sure, things had gotten ugly quickly back when he found out about his adoption, but he’d taken the pain and twisted it into anger and spite and energy. That was something she could work with. Something she could spar and reason with. But this…

There was no external force to be battled, to be defeated. There was only them, and their fertility specialist, fighting an uphill battle. Well. There was the specialist and Loki. She was wholly useless, she thought wryly. There was nothing she could do to make this better. She couldn’t suddenly claim that she never wanted a kid in the first place to placate Loki because he would see right through her. They had both gotten excited and carried away plotting names and trips and all sorts of activities that they would take a kid to. Sif had insisted that they should take the kid to martial arts classes while Loki had already started eyeing science kits for kids every time they walked through a store…

Wasted dreams.  

Sif swallowed, her throat suddenly feeling bone dry. When had that happened? She glanced back at Loki as she turned a corner, and while his cheek was still glued to the window, he had stopped picking at his hands, instead clasping them so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

“Loki?” she asked. “What are you thinking about?”

Silence.

She opened her mouth, with a list of follow-up questions on the tip of her tongue-

“Not very much,” he muttered, groaning as he slowly straightened up, pushing himself off the window. He took a deep breath and put on the blandly placid mask he usually reserved for encounters with Odin. “Only remembering that I very much hate needles.”

It was a lie. Not that he hated needles, that much was true, she’d seen him flinch at the thought of blood tests. But she knew that he wasn’t thinking about that.

Sif hummed. If needles were what he was willing to talk about, then that’s exactly what they would talk about.

“Are you still hung up on that time you fainted?” Sif asked lightly, doing her very best managerial Frigga voice. If the voice didn’t annoy him into responding, at least the incident ought to.

“Nearly fainted,” Loki scowled reflexively. “I didn’t actually faint.”

Bingo.

“Oh, I know,” Sif smirked. “You nearly fell on top of me,” she said pointedly, slowing for a red light. “Smothered to death under your weight is not the way I wish to die.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Loki asked, narrowing his eyes.

Sif bit back a smile. Perfect, she could work with prickly Loki.

“Loki, I like you and I love you, but you are heavy.”

“Are you calling me fat?” Loki scowled, his brows knitting together at the unexpected turn of the conversation.

Sif snorted. Loki may be lithe, but he was far too vain to allow himself to soften.

“I promise you that no one in their right mind would ever dare to call you fat,” Sif said.

He harrumphed and jutted his chin out, crossing his arms, keenly aware that that was not, in fact, a ‘No.’

“But you’re dense. You’re lucky you fell on me and not Jane, or you would’ve flattened her to a pancake.”

“As if she’s not used to being under even heavier weights,” Loki muttered to himself.

“What was that?” Sif asked, even though she’d heard him perfectly well.

Loki cleared his throat.

“Nothing,”  he said innocently, shifting in his seat. “I am just a firm believer that my blood should stay inside my body, thank you very much.”

“I’m not going to disagree with you there…” If only the female anatomy agreed as well.

He smirked, clearly pleased at having triumphed. There was even a little colour returning to his smug face, only to drain away again as he remembered why they had ventured onto the topic of needles in the first place.

“As part of the treatment you will need to be injected three times a week for several months, and then we can check to see if the treatment has been able to improve your sperm count,” Dr Eir had said.

Loki glanced down at the pamphlet sticking out of his pocket and took it out. There was a diagram of the male reproductive system, and a cartoon sperm was racing towards an egg with the slogan “Let’s win this race!”

Loki grimaced.

The pamphlet didn’t really say anything too surprising. If infertility was due to low hormone levels these could lead to changes to your mood, problems concentrating, weight gain, lower libido, etc. But the two that really caught his attention were less facial hair and problems staying erect. He blanched at the second one, grateful that this had not been a problem, but who knew if it could become an issue thanks to the stellar confidence boost that is an infertility diagnosis.

The former, though…

His hand shot up to his cheek, where his chin still felt relatively smooth. His facial hair growth had always been a little slow, but he had never minded that before, especially as he liked being clean-shaven and had always hated the thought of growing a patchy beard. But maybe he should have paid more attention. Maybe he could have known and saved them both from this heartache…

“I’m sorry, this is all my fault,” he whispered, his voice faltering.

Sif turned her head ever so slightly, trying hard to stay focused on driving, but finding it exceedingly difficult with each passing moment.

“No, Loki, it’s not-“

“I should have known, Sif. I should have gotten tested years ago before we got m-“ he couldn’t even say it. The thought of a world where he couldn’t marry Sif was a world he didn’t want to live in. “I’m sorry for doing this to you. You deserved better. You deserve better, Sif.”

She opened her mouth, and shut it again, trying to ignore the pain shooting through her heart. Hearing that it would be hard to conceive had been one thing. A factual thing which, though it twisted her gut, did not really feel real yet. Maybe it simply hadn’t fully hit her, the way that it had slammed into Loki. But hearing the anguish in his voice. The pain, the sorrow, the sheer misery…

“Loki…” she tried to ignore the lump in her throat. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

He shook his head-

“No, stop,” she interrupted. “Please, just… listen.”

He stopped.

“Loki?” she asked, “Do you love me?”

He sucked in a surprised breath.

“Of course, I love you” Why would you- I- Of course!”

She nodded to herself, and drew the car up into their driveway, bringing it to a stop.

“Then…” she took a steadying breath, pulled the key out of the ignition and turned to him, fixing him with a look. “Let me decide what it is I deserve.”

He blinked, rendered speechless. Another time, another day, she would have relished it. Joked about his silver tongue turning to lead, nudged him playfully and pressed a kiss to his lips to bring him back to life… But today, it was a hollow victory.

She took his hand, now freezing cold from the stress and anxiety and pressed it to her heart.

“What I deserve is to be happy in the present. And you deserve the same,” she said softly. “We can keep trying, we can keep fighting, taking injections, and having treatments… but if nothing works out that will be okay too.”

“But what abou-“

“Loki, I married you for you, and not just for the potential kids. I love you and even though I’d obviously love any kids we might have, I care about your happiness in the present more than any potential happiness in the future.”

He swallowed.

“No matter what happens in the future,” Sif said, “Promise me you won’t pull away…” She squeezed his hand. “I just want us to be okay.”

He let out a shaky breath, his eyes smarting with the tears he had managed to hold off for so long. They were traitors, each and every single teardrop. He leant in, pressing his forehead against hers, and nodded.

“Okay.”

Chapter Text

To say the following months were difficult would be an understatement. The constant injections, the strict planning around ovulation times, and the general stench of despair clung to them no matter what they did. Any excitement or passion that had once fuelled their conjugal activities had dissipated, and what had at least for a while led to a despairing edge to their coupling, eventually only left hollowness behind.

They lied after every time they tried again, comforting each other with all the soft words they could muster, promising that this would be the time that stuck. It would definitely be the time, they would declare more for themselves than the other.

And then the monthly red menace would come by and Sif would find herself alone in the bathroom, a captive to her biology, torn apart by both physical and emotional pain. Another chance failed. Another month was wasted. And though she hardened her heart to try and avoid the scraping, tearing pain of heartache, she did not like what she saw in the mirror.

"This can't go on like this, " Sif said to Jane one evening, having rocked up at Jane and Thor’s once again. The only place she could go.

Loki had been quite upset at the thought of everyone knowing about his diagnosis but given that it was too big a secret to hold for anyone, they struck a deal. They could tell exactly one person each for the sake of their mental health. Given that Volstagg and Hildegund could never understand their situation due to the sheer size of their brood, Fandral, Darcy and Hogun were fairly clear that they never wanted kids, and Val and her partner had opted straight for adoption, there were only two people who remained and knew them well enough not to drive them mad consistently: Jane and Thor.

Sif sighed as she sat on the ugly la-Z-boy Thor had kept from his bachelor days, with her legs tucked under her. Loki had to stay at work late again, an occurrence that seemed to be becoming more and more regular, most likely as a way to forget all that was going on. She was almost sure that it was all voluntary because it had been years since his workload had been this heavy, and the load had decreased as he climbed the ranks in his law firm.

"We're either miserable together and just going through the motions, or we're apart. This isn't sustainable. I genuinely can’t remember when the last time was that I saw him genuinely smile. Or the last time we just had a laugh." She lifted a half-empty can of beer to her lips and took a long swig.

Jane glanced nervously at the door through which Thor was checking on Magnus and Magni. It was just past their bedtime, and thankfully the kids hadn’t seen or heard Sif arrive, but if they found out… There would be no way they would allow their aunt to escape without another bedtime story.

“I know this is probably a stupid question, but have you talked to Loki about how you feel?” Jane asked. “He needs to know if you feel like there’s a growing gulf between you. Things can’t get better unless one of you addresses it.”

“I know,” Sif sighed, running a hand through her hair. “I keep trying to and then I just… I can see how miserable he is and how hard he is trying to just keep himself together, and… I don’t have the heart to. I know he’ll just blame himself. I know he’s been doing that anyway.” She growled into her beer. “Sometimes I wish I’d been the one with the poor diagnosis, to take away his sadness but also so that I could just wallow for a while without feeling guilty…”

Jane blinked.

“Why are you feeling guilty about wallowing? None of this is easy, you’re totally allowed to climb into bed and wallow if you want.”

Sif grimaced and didn’t say anything. Instead, she inspected her wedding band with great interest, her eyes following the trail of the gold as it twisted in an elegant braid around her finger. A circle, a knot, a symbol without a start or an ending. For better or worse. In sickness and in health.

“If we’re both just lying around in bed, we won’t get anywhere with anything,” Sif said at last.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but isn’t bed exactly where you want to be for babymaking?” Thor said with a grin as he walked into the living room baby monitor in hand and shut the door behind him.

Jane tried to wave her hand across her neck in the universal sign of “cut-it-out” only for Thor to notice too late. He froze, looking back and forth between the two women, only-then reading the room.

Sif’s lips were pinched into a thin line, clearly not amused.

“Sorry, bad joke. I shouldn’t have said that,” he said chagrined, and moved to sit down beside Jane. He moved to take Jane’s hand, but she gave a pointed look at Sif who was now hugging her knees deep in thought and pulled away. Right. No PDA in front of the upset guest. “So, um, what’re you two talking about?”

Jane glanced at Sif, and as Sif didn’t move to speak, she turned to Thor.

“The usual,” she mouthed at Thor, who nodded with immediate understanding.

“Say, Jane, when was the last time we threw a party?”

“A party?” Jane blinked, furrowing her brows. “I guess a few months ago we had Magnus’ birthday party…”

“Sure, but like a party that was just the adults. You know, drinking games, competitions, and Fandral and Darcy getting caught in another closet?”

Sif snorted, tuning back in.

“Those two should just get together already.”

Thor grinned.

“It seems they can only find their way to each other after imbibing plenty of liquor,” he snickered.

“More like they only find each other’s tonsils,” Jane remarked, earning a laugh from Sif.

“So, what do you think? We could ask mother and father to watch the kids and have everyone over. And, Sif, obviously we need to drag Loki into it. If he puts up a fight, tell him that I will personally throw him over my shoulder and drag him to the party kicking and screaming if need be.”

Sif grinned from ear to ear, thinking back to their childhood days where Thor had done precisely that to get him to play with them in the garden one summer day after Sif had confided that she missed Loki when he was always hiding away. Loki had naturally protested fervently the entire time, but as soon as he saw Sif, he’d straightened up and been on his best behaviour. At least until he found the perfect moment to enact revenge on Thor by throwing a bucket of ice water at him. His shit-eating grin afterwards hadn’t dimmed even when Frigga scolded him.

“I don’t think that will be necessary,” Sif said, her eyes glittering with mischief, a clear sign that she’d spent too many years around Loki. “But if we need to, you’ll be the first to know.”

“I still don’t understand why they are throwing a costume party in the middle of the summer,” Loki complained to his Bluetooth headset as he climbed up the stairs to Jane and Thor’s home carrying a box of assorted pralines and a decent red wine as hostess gifts.

“It doesn’t matter why,” Sif replied, watching him stalk up to the house while peaking through the curtains of the living room. She took a moment to let his get-up sink in properly. He’d dug up his tweed suit, a deer-stalker hat and a prop pipe which was actually for blowing bubbles. From her current vantage point, she could see his ponytail swinging with each step, and she couldn’t help but grin in delight.

Loki was her very own Sherlock Holmes.

“Honestly, though. Who chooses the theme ‘Heroes’? It’s far too broad,” he groused, leaning down to inelegantly elbow the doorbell.

Sif laughed, the phone still pressed to her ear, and rushed past Darcy to get to the door.

“I don’t know, Loki. It seems like a good theme to me,” she said with a grin as she swung the door open.

Loki’s jaw dropped.

Whatever he had expected Sif to select had not been this. She stood in the doorway in a very specific leather dress and boots, with resin-cast armour armbands, knee guards and gauntlets. His eyes wandered along her frame, getting caught by the fake weapons she had distributed on her person as Xena Warrior Princess. By the time he got back up to her face, Sif was smirking like a cat that had got the cream, smug beyond anything words could capture.

She ended the call and posed with her hands on her hips. “Surprise! What do you think?”

He blinked rapidly and eventually found the presence of mind to shut his mouth.

“I…” he cleared his throat and tried again. “When did you… where did you…?”

“I bought it from a costume shop. To be honest I was only going to rent it but…” she ran her hands along the leather and looked at him suggestively. “It fits so well it seemed like a worthwhile investment, don’t you think?”

“Um…” he swallowed. “Yes, a very good investment.”

She smirked, taking the chocolate off of him and reaching into his pocket to grab the pipe.

“You’re looking very handsome, too,” she murmured, appraising him more openly. “It’s nice to see our trip to the Sherlock museum is finally paying off,” Sif said, holding it up for him. He took the pipe in his free hand and a long, drawn-out fake puff, keeping his eyes lock on Sif the entire time.

“I thought it would go well with the ensemble,” he hummed appreciatively.

“No shit, Sherlock,” Hogun said from behind him, climbing up the stairs in an unmistakable black costume.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Batman,” Loki huffed. “Shouldn’t you be in Gotham fighting clowns?”

Hogun gave him a hard stare and grimaced. “I do not need to go to Gotham to see clowns when I can just look at you.”

“Oh, how you wound me,” Loki scoffed. “If only I could feel the sting of your little bat wings…” he declared faux dramatically.

Hogun glowered at him.

“Hogun, my friend, it seems we are matching!” Fandral exclaimed, popping out of the living room, in a full-on Zorro costume with a sword strapped to his hip in a swashbuckling manner.

“Black outfits, masks, and capes. It’s almost like you coordinated,” Sif chuckled.

“We are not the same,” Hogun said quickly.

“Come now! We might as well be siblings!” Fandral grinned, wrapping his arm around Hogun’s shoulder.

“Since when are you a fan of Zorro?” Loki remarked, looking his friend over. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you even mention the character.

“Since I saw that flirty sword fight with Catherina Zeta-Jones’ character on Netflix,” Fandral said with a wide grin. “That was something alright,” he winked.

“Don’t you mean… Elena Montero!” Darcy exclaimed, appearing in an early 19th-century Spanish-style red, black and white dress. Sif exchanged a knowing glance with Loki.

“Elena,” Fandral exclaimed playfully, taking her hand and kissing it with a flourish of his cape.

“That tickles,” Darcy giggled.

“My greatest apologies,” Fandral said quickly.

“I think we should find Thor and Jane before this devolves into voyeurism,” Loki whispered to Sif, earning a chuckle and a light slap to his chest.

They looped arms and walked past Volstagg and Hildegund who were conversing with Val, dressed as a salt shaker, a pepper shaker, and poison ivy, respectively-Loki wasn’t even going to ask- and headed into the kitchen.

“-I’ll prep the rest of the drinks,” Thor said, looking around for the crate of drinks.

“Don’t forget to take out the bottle of white from the fridge,” Jane added.

“What on earth are you both supposed to be?” Loki asked, handing Thor the bottle he’d brought.

“Brother!” Thor exclaimed, drawing him into a tight bear hug. “You came, I’m so pleased. I feel like I haven’t seen you in aeons!”

“Eurgh,” Loki protested, trying to wriggle out of Thor’s vice-like grip, but failed to push him away. “Thor, get your half-naked person off me!”

Thor let go, his short blond wig bobbing with laughter. It was true that Thor was showing plenty of skin, only wearing a chest plate and red shorts. He had a plastic sword strapped to him as an additional accessory, but the rest of him was bare, showing off his six-pack (which Loki glared at) and his rippling arms.

“I’ve had a great deal of work, recently,” Loki said, wiping himself down. “And what about you? What is this monstrous get-up? What are you supposed to be? A life guard-slash-knight?”

Thor guffawed and slapped his back. “Don’t you recognise He-Man?” He flexed his arms again and winked, “Master of the Universe.”

“The day you become the master of the universe I will personally go and make sure hell freezes over,” Loki said, rolling his eyes. “Didn’t you have any other muscle-bound heroes to choose from? Or did you just really want to spend the entire evening getting cold?”

Thor grinned. “There was the option of Hercules, but that didn’t seem like a good idea, all things considered.” He glanced at Sif.

Loki glanced back and forth between Thor and Sif, before it clicked. Hercules and Xena had a thing.

Loki cleared his throat, his lips pressing into the thinnest of lines until he barely had any lips to speak off. He glanced at Jane who seemed to be completely oblivious, or maybe simply unbothered, as she checked a recipe book with narrowed eyes. Jane's was probably the most demure outfit, with some sort of Greco-Roman inspiration, paired with a cloak. Whoever she was, Loki was certain she was a scientist.

“In that case, I appreciate He-Man,” Loki said with a curt nod, catching Sif’s arm in the crook of his again. She snickered.

“Don’t worry, Hercules never stood a chance. Xena wound up quite happy with Gabrielle.”

“Are you telling me you’re leaving me for a petite blonde farmgirl or that you think I am a petite blonde farm girl?” Loki smirked.

“Lucky for you, it’s neither,” Sif chuckled. “Gabrielle was quick-witted, could talk her way out of things, was a wonderful storyteller, and had an excellent eye for flair and drama… Does that remind you of anyone?” she murmured, watching Loki’s face split into a wide grin. Her heart leapt. She’d missed that smile so much.

“What a delicious mystery, you have presented,” Loki whispered, reaching up to take his hat off. Instead, Sif caught his wrist, stopping him mid-motion, exchanging a meaningful look. He let go, a moment of doubt crossing his expression, but it disappeared as quickly as it had come. She took his hand in hers and squeezed. “How ever will I solve this mystery?” he murmured, not taking his eyes off her as he pressed a kiss to her knuckles.

“Well… We will just have to solve that, and any other mysteries, together,” she murmured, though her eyes held an intensity which told him that they were no longer talking about pop culture. The fire in her eyes did not waver for a moment, and in that instant, he was sure that she was right. They would get through this and every other challenge as long as they held firm and trusted each other. They were more than just two robots trying to repeat an experiment over and over with failure. They were a family, with or without children. And at the end of the day, there was no one else he would rather go through life with.

He nodded, and slowly leant in to steal a soft kiss. “With you by my side? It’s elementary, my dear Xena.”

Chapter Text

It had become ever so slightly easier to breathe in the months that followed, despite the struggle to conceive continuing to claw at the edges of their minds. Sure, there were highs and lows in abundance, but at least they felt a little less like they were the focal points of their lives. Did they keep trying? Yes. Did Loki keep taking the shots? Yes. But did every time they made love still feel like a test he was continuously failing? No. Sif had convinced him of that much, at least.

The party had helped somewhat, reminding them that levity was indeed allowed to be a part of their lives. Their struggles did not have to define them.

It also helped that every few weeks there was another group thing to help keep them occupied. It had started with the costume party, and every couple of weeks someone else would host with everyone having a different idea of fun.  When Volstagg hosted there was a veritable feast, prepared by himself and Gudrun (his second daughter) as his sous-chef. Hildegund was more than happy to let them take the lead while she continued to battle to whims of all of the other children. When Hogun hosted, the group had played strategy boardgames,  and all good behaviour quickly went down the drain as factions and grudges sowed the board with chaos. Meanwhile, when Val hosted, she brought out a cabinet worth of alcohol and liquors,  using her professional bartending experience,  and the help of her beautiful blonde assistant (aka life partner of 5 years and co- parent) Brunhilde, to essentially deliver a mixology class to varying levels of success. In most cases there was minimum mixing and maximum drinking.

This time it was Darcy's choice, and that would surely mean maximum chatting,  minimum effort,  and at least one uninhabitable closet.

It was nice not having to think about getting pregnant for a while.

"Where's Volstagg?" Thor asked, balancing four bowls of sweetened popcorn in his arms as he entered Darcy's living room. He handed one to Jane, who had curled up on the large black sofa chair, placed one on the coffee table around which Hogun and Val sat on the rug, passed one to Darcy, who was drapped across a mismatching red sofa chair with Fandral leaning against the side of it, and handed the last to Loki, who held it out of Sif's reach for a moment before chuckling and obediently handing it over.

"He's getting off the phone with the babysitter," Hildegund said, pushing her voluminous red braid back as she made herself comfortable on one end of the four- seater sofa. "The children are going to eat her alive. The least we can do is give her a warning."

Sif snorted, sharing a grin with Hilde from the other end of the sofa, where she sat leaning against Loki.

"I hope you're paying her well," Loki remarked with a mischievous grin.

Hilde chuckled, just as Volstagg came in and plopped down beside her.

"If we don't get any panicked phone calls tonight then today will be a success," Volstagg announced, and pecked Hilde's cheek. 

"I'm sure it will be fine," Jane remarked, getting up to give Thor the sofa chair, and then sitting across him with practiced ease.

"Nothing can be certain," Hogun said, his voice laced with scepticism.

"Ever so cryptic, my friend,” Fandral snorted. “But speaking of cryptic…" Fandral tugged on Darcy's sleeve. "Are you going to tell us what we're watching, or do we need to play charades to figure that out?"

A chorus of 'No's and 'don't give her ideas' went around the room,  with someone (Val) flicking popcorn at Fandral in protest.

Darcy cackled, and bounced out of the chair, grabbing the remote controls. She blocked the tv as she pulled up her choice.

“You’ll just have to watch and see,” Darcy snickered, rushing back to her seat.

“Why all the secrecy?” Volstagg asked, grabbing a handful of popcorn and taking an appreciative whiff. Caramelised deliciousness.

“Because if I told you in advance half of you- no, most of you- wouldn’t have shown up,” Darcy smirked. “This way, it’s too late, and you can’t run away.”

Hogun narrowed his eyes.

“Is it a romantic comedy?”

Darcy’s grin widened, eliciting a laugh from most of the ladies and Fandral, and a groan from everyone else. 

“Well played,” Sif laughed, glancing up at Loki who sighed melodramatically.  Her lips curled into a small smile. She knew that he wasn’t as put out as he claimed. He was secretly quite sappy, even if he would not admit it to anyone. And he certainly would never admit to getting teary-eyed watching ‘Four weddings and a funeral’ last month.  

The movie started off slowly enough, with shots of New York City, and the presence of Jennifer Aniston and Jason Bateman’s names acting as undeniable confirmation that it was a rom-com. Finally, only once the setting had shifted to a station of sorts (metro or train? It was unclear) did a title card appear: The Switch.

No one reacted. No one apart from Fandral.

“Not again…” he sighed.

Half a dozen eyes bored into him, with Darcy doing a 180 in her chair.

“You’ve seen this before?”

Fandral shrugged. “Watching romcoms with women is a quick way into their hearts,” he said with a little flourish of his hand.

“Interesting euphemism,” Loki murmured into Sif’s ear, garnering a quick laugh.

Darcy sighed dramatically, going limp in her chair, her arm outstretched.

“You try and you try to pick something no one’s seen before… What a wasted effort…”

“Never wasted,” Fandral promised. He caught her hand and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. “However… this does mean that I won’t miss a thing if I go to the bathroom.” He rose to his feet and walked off quietly, glares and envious stares following him along the way out.

“Do you know what this is about?” Loki whispered to Sif, but she just shook her head. Clearly, Darcy had been quite successful in her subterfuge after all. He leant back comfortably and watched the cheesy narration about the human race unfold. Honestly, being ridiculously cheesy immediately had to be the only thing all romcoms had in common. Well, that and the leading characters winding up together after some highly improbable series of events…

He glanced down as Sif, who slowly worked her way through the popcorn while resting her head on his shoulder. Well, it had taken a highly improbable series of events for them to come together too, after multiple unrequited periods of attraction for both of them, accidents, and eventually, a little fake-dating scenario surrounding their Christmas plans… but they too had managed to get together. Perhaps, Loki thought to himself, I ought to give romcoms more credence.

He pressed a small kiss to her hair and watched the movie.

It was certainly starting strong, with a fair amount of quirkiness and silly music that matched the mood, and even the introduction of the friendship between the protagonists was fairly charming. But then…

“This, Wally, is what a woman’s fertility looks like after a certain age,” Jennifer Aniston’s character said pointing at a downward graph.

Half the room froze.

Loki felt Sif stiffen against him, and he found himself holding his breath. Jane and Thor exchanged worried glances not daring to turn to Loki and Sif, in case they drew attention to them. Luckily no one else in the rest of the room seemed to have noticed the shift in the air.

Loki swallowed.

“I went to the doctor and she said all my levels are great, considering,” the character continued, before blabbing on about various details of her test result.

Sif, all too familiar with the details of a stellar diagnosis, slowly pushed herself upright and tilted her head to the side to inspect Loki. He’d grown as still as a pillar, as the blood flowed away from his extremities. The arm that had been wound around her waist slackened.

“I don’t need to have a man to have a baby,” Jennifer’s character continued.

Sif’s heart dropped.

Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no… Sif thought. Of all the movies that Darcy could have chosen…

Somehow Loki managed to get even paler before her very eyes. This could not end well.

“I am in the market for some… semen.”

Loki squeezed his eyes shut, and tried to take a deep steadying breath but his heart was not having it as it continued to beat far too quickly. This cannot be happening… he told himself, but it was to no avail. The movie was still running and he could feel in his bones that the topic was not going to change anytime soon. Maybe he could sit it out? Maybe he was strong enough to ignore it all? Maybe he could try and focus on something else for two hours?

“I need  you to help me find some.”

No. He could not do it. Loki lept to his feet, intending to Olympic walk out of the room like any reasonable person would under the circumstances. But before he could even take a step towards the kitchen, a hand clasped around his wrist, and he looked back to see Sif’s hand grasping onto him. She did not need to do or say anything for him to know exactly what she was thinking. She was worried about him, she wanted to ask him if he needed her to come with him, and she was trying not to look uncomfortable for his sake as all eyes turned to him instead of the TV.

He softly clasped his hand around hers and whispered, “I just need a little space. I’ll be in the kitchen. Stay here and enjoy the movie.”

Her grip lessened and he walked off, trying his level best to appear composed. Instead of Olympic walking, he deliberately slowed each of his steps, though his strides were still on the long side, desperately clinging to some semblance of normality. He rounded the corner and crept into the darkened kitchen. The sun was near the end of its quest to set and he didn’t want to turn the lights on. He didn’t want to be seen. Not right now. He shut the kitchen door behind him, and as the dark blues and purples washed over the building across Darcy’s flat his mask finally crumbled.

He shivered as the cold sweat beaded across his back, covering his face with his hands for a moment as he faced the window, wishing with all his being that he could just scream. That he could just stand on the edge of a cliff for a minute and let it all out in a full-bodied scream. A scream directed at the universe, at the fates, at himself.

But he couldn’t.

Well, he could, he thought. Everyone would merely think that he had finally gone insane. So no, it wasn’t that he couldn’t. It was that he shouldn’t and wouldn’t, and on days like this, that was practically the same thing.

He was certain that the universe must be laughing at him right now. Revelling in watching his misery unfold day after day. Cheering on with each tragedy and horror that struck him and only him. Everyone else was always fine, but if there was a creator of all things, then they had to be a sadistic creature to torment him so.

He pressed one hand to his chest, and he didn’t even have to press hard to feel his heart beating like it was running away from some apex predator. Intellectually, he knew that there was nothing chasing him. Nothing was out to kill him. Nothing was seeking to cause him physical harm. But emotionally… there was only fear. Fear that even the new equilibrium he and Sif had found was tenuous. That even despite all the encouraging words, and all they had been through together, in the end, all of his efforts would not be enough. That the struggle and the fight would cause an irreparable wedge between them, and that all that would remain was pure loathing. Loathing at their condition, but even more, loathing for him preventing a child from ever being conceived-

“Is someone in here?”

The door clicked open, and Fandral stepped through.

“Oh, it’s you,” Fandral said in his usual jocular tone, walking towards him. “You couldn’t stand the movie? Can’t say I can blame you-“

Fandral reached for Loki’s shoulder but stopped the moment he saw Loki’s reflection in the window. Loki was turned into himself, head bowed, arms crossed with nails digging into the upper arms of his dark green shirt, and an expression like he was on the edge of a panic attack.

“Loki…? Are you okay? You don’t look so good.”

Loki bit back a strangled laugh. No, he supposed he didn’t look good with his entire life looking like it was on the edge of crumbling.

“For the supposedly charming one of the group you’re not being very complimentary,” Loki said, trying to infuse his voice with a healthy dose of nonchalance, but it only came out sounding pained.

“Well,” Fandral said, stepping up next to him in the darkened room, not turning to face his friend. He looked up at the sky. “Everyone has an off day, that’s pretty normal, wouldn’t you say?”

Loki didn’t say anything, refusing to look anywhere that wasn’t straight ahead.

“It takes a lot of effort to be as flawless as me,” Fandral continued. He glanced at Loki’s reflection, and there wasn’t even a tug of his lips. This had to be bad. “Say, Loki. Have you been having some off-days recently?”

His head snapped up at that, but he still refused to turn to Fandral.

“What makes you say that?” he said as blankly as he could manage.

“Oh, it’s nothing,” Fandral shrugged off. “I must be imagining things. I just thought I should ask since… I don’t know, you and Sif seem to be acting a little strange for the last couple of months, and I wasn’t sure whether there is something on your minds…”

Loki froze.

“Do the others know?” he whispered. How had this happened? Did they all know and simply hold their tongues to avoid embarrassment? Had someone told them? He certainly hadn’t and Sif wouldn’t betray his trust. Thor might have several years ago when things weren’t good between them, but these days he would never be so callous. And naturally, Jane would never, she was brilliant at many things, but gossip was not one of them…

Fandral gave a one-sided shrug.

“Hogun probably noticed, since nothing ever slips past him, and I get the feeling that Thor and Jane are already in on whatever it is, but otherwise… I don’t think the rest have any idea.”

“That’s good,” Loki sighed, shaking his head a little to himself. At least there was no real gossip to speak of. Which meant that there was no pity, and that was the most important part. “What gave us away?”

“I don’t know,” Fandral said, turning around to lean on the window ledge and look back into the darkened room. “I guess you’ve both just been a little subdued. And I think…” he hummed to himself.

Loki narrowed his eyes.

“Spit it out, Fandral.”

“Well, I suppose…” his lips twisted into a frown. “You haven’t been playing with all the kids as much.”

“Oh.”

The word hung in the air. Loki could not deny it. He loved his nephews and all of the mad little monsters that had been begotten by their band of friends, but these days even looking at them was a reminder of what he was incapable of. Of what he couldn’t give Sif… Naturally, he still played with the children if they actively approached him, but it was harder and harder to spend time with them knowing he and Sif would always return home to an empty nest. A nest that may never be filled.

“Look man, you don’t have to tell me what’s going on. And clearly, you don’t want to,” Fandral said. “But, if you ever want to talk about it-“

“I can’t have children.”

Fandral froze.

“I can’t have children,” Loki repeated slowly. “We both got checked out a couple of months ago because he had been trying and failing to conceive. Sif’s results are flawless as you might expect- she has always been incredible and this is no exception- but mine…” He grimaced, slowly turning to face Fandral. “My sperm count is so low that it is unlikely that we will ever conceive even with all the treatments,” Loki admitted.

“Oh,” Fandral repeated. No wonder that movie had hit a nerve. What could he even say in a situation like this? “I’m sorry.”

A harsh laugh escaped Loki.

“What are you apologising for? It’s not like you took a string, tied my balls to a goat, and killed all my sperm now, is it? No, this is all my fault.”

Fandral bit his lip, but couldn’t hold it in. That image was far too hilarious.

“Why? Did you tie your balls to a goat and kill all your sperm?”

“I-“ Loki started but stopped as he caught Fandral’s conspiratorial smile. Despite himself, he laughed. “Why yes, yes I did.”

Fandral’s eyes glinted with amusement.

“What a.. ballsy move,” he snickered.

Loki snorted.

“Such sparkling wit,” Loki drawled. “Where do you find the time to be flawless, dashing, and brilliant?”

“I try very hard,” Fandral winked. “And sometimes I strike gold.”

“And otherwise?” Loki prompted.

“Pure bullshit.”

“I can attest to that much,” Loki chuckled.

They settled into a companionable silence, with only the sound of laughter and groaning from the living room filling the air between them. It was quite a relief to finally admit what was wrong to someone who wasn’t family. Someone who wouldn’t walk on eggshells around him.

“I don’t know what to do,” Loki admitted, more to himself than to Fandral.

“Oh?”

“I don’t think it’s ever going to happen for us,” Loki said quietly. “I’ve been taking shots several times a week for months now, but my numbers are barely improving. At this rate, I think we’ll both be in our forties before I have viable sperm.”

“Well, that’s not too bad,” Fandral pointed out. “Plenty of people have their first kid in their forties…”

The corners of Loki’s lips pulled down. “Maybe, but… I’m not sure we can last that long… Sif and I have talked a lot, and we keep saying that it will be fine no matter what… But many people say that at the start of this process and then… it gets too hard. The strain causes a rift and eventually divorce papers get signed over irrevocable differences and-“

“Loki, it’s going to be okay,” Fandral said, grabbing him by his shoulders and squeezing. “Have a little faith in each other. Can you imagine a life where you don’t love Sif?”

Loki shook his head.

“I’m pretty damn sure that it’s the same for her, and there is no point stressing this far into the future.”

Loki nodded meekly.

“Plus, while children are grand and fantastic, if you want them, if you don’t have any it doesn’t diminish your value, you know that right? Anyone who says otherwise doesn’t belong in your life.”

“It’s easy for you to say,” Loki sighed. “You’re not the one shooting blanks…”

“Well, that’s not technically true,” Fandral remarked, letting go of one shoulder and rubbing his chin.

“What?”

He shrugged. “I got a vasectomy years ago. I know I don’t want kids, and there’s a certain amount of peace of mind in knowing an old girlfriend can’t show up ten years down the line with a kid that’s yours.”

Loki’s head was spinning.

“D-does Darcy know?”

“Where’s this interest in my love life coming from all of a sudden?” Fandral chuckled. “Yes, yes, she knows. Doesn’t care.”

“Huh.” He stepped back and found himself leaning against the kitchen counter. “But what if you change your mind someday? Don’t you want to have that option?”

“I do think it’s pretty unlikely, if I may say so,” Fandral remarked. “But even if I changed my mind, there are always other options, right?” He tilted his head, inspecting Loki. “Have you guys looked into any other options? You could always use a sperm donor”-Loki grimaced- “or adopt, right? I mean with you being a lawyer and Sif being an officer of the law, I can’t imagine any agencies turning you two away…”

“I…” Loki started picking at the inside of his palm. “It feels like accepting those options means accepting defeat. Like that’s it. Like I’ve given up and don’t have a chance at all. Like… like I’ve officially failed.”

“Loki, my friend,” Fandral squeezed his shoulder. “That is officially the stupidest thing I have ever heard you say.”

Loki scoffed, trying to pull away.

“Accepting the help of modern medicine or giving a lonely child a home isn’t a failure, you especially should know the second one,” Fandral chastised. “It just means you’re giving yourself permission to find happiness in a more unconventional way. And there’s really nothing conventional about you both anyway, so it’s definitely not a stretch,” Fandral grinned.

Giving yourself permission to find happiness in an unconventional way.

Loki wanted to doubt the sentiment, he wanted to pick holes into the argument, but he was drawing a blank.

Giving yourself permission.

Was that the problem? That he just wasn’t being kind enough to himself? To Sif? Was it just his ego stopping them from getting what they actually wanted? Was it all really so easy as accepting his limits?

Maybe, maybe not. But maybe he should put some more options on the table.

“Fandral?” he asked, slowly stepping towards his friend.

“Yeah?”

Taking a deep breath, Loki wrapped an arm around Fandral’s shoulders in the semblance of a hug.

“Thank you.”

Sif looked up from her corner on the sofa as Loki reappeared with Fandral on his heels. She shifted, making space for him, and hummed appreciatively as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

“How are you feeling?” she whispered against his shoulder, looking up to measure his reaction.

He smiled softly in response. Okay, good. That had to be a good sign.

“Sif?” he whispered back.

“Mm?”

“I think it’s time to seriously consider the backup options.”

She sucked in a sharp breath and caught sight of Fandral giving her a thumbs up. What was that about? What on earth had led to this change of heart?

“Alright,” she whispered back, never letting go of Loki.

Time for the next challenge.

Chapter Text

Sif groaned, resting her head on the table. This entire day was giving her a headache, and if it weren’t for her pure obstinacy, she would have given up already. It had only been a couple of hours since their latest appointment with Dr Eir, and the sheer amount of information and reading was genuinely starting to give Sif a migraine.

Their appointment had been on the long side with Dr Eir explaining the system for accessing sperm donations and the laws regarding it. Loki’s face had remained impassive throughout the meeting, but it was hard to tell whether this had been due to nonchalance or pure willpower. It turned out that in the case of a single mother, the donor would legally be considered the father, but in their case, the child would be legally Loki’s. And though the donations were anonymous, the anonymity came with a time limit. Technically the donor was only anonymous until the child turned 18, and then the kid would have full access to their paternal donor information- including their name.

Beyond the actual meeting, Dr Eir had shoved them out of her door with half a dozen pamphlets, a list of informational websites, and the link to an actual sperm selection service. Even thinking about the service was the worst, giving Sif war flashbacks to the days she had fruitlessly fought through various dating apps. She had hoped that the days where she would have to scroll through pages of pretentious or downright lying men was in her past, but evidently, fate had another idea. Thankfully, Loki had decided to read all the info first and hadn't delved head-first into donors. Truthfully, Sif was not sure if she had the nerves to scroll through endless lists of donors today. Or ever...

One thing that was not helping Sif’s migraine was Loki’s suspiciously jaunty behaviour as they worked through the material. She didn’t buy it for a minute. It simply couldn’t be possible that he could be so pleased with the thought of going through sperm donors and donations after all the angst and worry he’d wrapped himself in during the last several months. It made no sense. So clearly, she decided, he had to be faking. But why? For her? To make it easier for her to pick another man? That was wholly unnecessary. This was not a scenario where she needed a fake, cheerful Loki who would go along with anything for her perceived happiness, but a scenario where she needed her highly picky, extremely cautious and acerbic husband to whittle down the options like a chef with a paring knife.

What she wouldn’t give for some snarky comments just about now…

She glanced up and saw that Loki was still reading, taking notes in his notebook like the studious young man she had initially fallen for. His eyebrows creased ever so slightly as he processed all of the information like he was preparing for an examination. He had always been good at tests, even when they’d been little. It had felt like he barely needed to do any preparation to ace a test because he would simply retain and understand information unfairly fast. She had always envied him for it. She was by no means stupid, but book learning had never come easily to her.

He kept reading for a little bit before glancing down and catching her eye. He smiled softly and reached across to stroke her hair. It was a soothing gesture, a gentle one. Under different circumstances, at the hands of others, it might have been patronising, but with Loki she knew it was purely a gesture of care. There was just something about such a casual touch that made her feel oddly safe and loved.

"Why don't you lie down for a bit?" Loki murmured. "You can read my notes later."

She sighed happily, closing her eyes. If she were a cat, she would have surely purred. It was such a tempting offer.

"Don't we still have to look at some donors?"

She let the gentle repetition of his fingers carding through her hair lull her a little.

"It’s okay," he hummed.  "It's not like they're going to run away. I can look for now. Maybe we could each make a shortlist and then compare later?"

"Are you sure?" She whispered,  her limbs feeling heavier,  as sleep gently beckoned her, dulling the pain in her head.

"Completely, " he promised,  and before she could nod in response, sleep drew her into a warm nothingness.

When Sif woke later, the first thing she noticed was the bed. How had she gotten there? Last she knew she was in the study, with Loki, reading about donors and having a splitting hea-

The headache! She tapped her head and experimentally lifted it, turning from side to side. It was gone. Praised be napping! How long had she even been out? She reached for the bedside table and saw her digital alarm clock gleaming 01:23.

She blinked.

It was already past 1am? She squinted at the other side of the bed. It was empty.

Where was Loki?

Frowning, she clambered out of bed and tiptoed towards the light which was streaming out of the living room. She scratched the back of her head and yawned. She froze mid-motion. Loki was still seated at the desk, but this time he was the one with his head resting on the desk, cushioned against his crossed arms, and lit from above by the bright screen of the computer. Stepping closer, she picked up a green pen which had rolled away and moved to set it down next to his open notebook.

Wait.

The A5 spiral-bound notebook was opened up almost in the middle. Sif could have sworn it was a brand new notebook. She carefully pried it away from her sleeping husband and flicked through the pages. Her stomach dropped. Nearly every page was full of notes on the sperm donation process and lists upon lists of donors categorised by various details. Had he written all of this today? She glanced between the notebook and Loki. The thin line between his eyebrows had not smoothed out even in sleep, and his shoulders looked taut like a heavy weight was tugging on him.

Sif sighed, carding a hand through her hair and pushing the tangled mess back. He was trying so hard, trying desperately to hold onto some semblance of control in their life. She loved him too much to let him continue like this indefinitely, but for now, she had no choice. He would have to get the initial obsessive search out of his system. After all, there was nothing worse than regretting not having tried enough.

***

“-and then I grabbed his arm and twisted it,” Volstagg exclaimed, demonstrating the motion with a perfectly roasted chicken leg he had brought in for lunch. Fandral, Hogun and Sif were all that remained in the lunch room. The other inspectors, sergeants and constables were all back at their desks, returning to the grind of paperwork that accompanied every Inspector irrespective of rank. However, their little group had had to work through lunch to finalise a report that the commissioner needed for a meeting with the Home Secretary. It was all a fuss, but such was their glamourous life these days.

“If I recall correctly,” Fandral butted in waving a carrot, “I caught him first, and then you twisted his arm-“

“That does not sound correct, my friend,” Volstagg said, squinting his eyes. Friends they might be, but having a good retelling undercut by something as trivial as fact was a cardinal sin. They all turned to Hogun.

“Fandral caught him, Sif disarmed him, and Volstagg completed the arrest,” he said blandly and blew on a spoonful of tomato soup.

“Aha!” Fandral laughed. “There you have it! See? I cau-”

The conversation filtered out of Sif’s consciousness, as she pensively chewed on another forkful of spaghetti Verde. She’d woken up for the fourth night in a row now, and had to coax Loki to bed after hours of scouring through donors. How could there even be so many donors for him to peruse? Surely you should have run out by now? Sif frowned. At this rate, he had to be clicking on every single donor profile instead of using any of the filters…

She pulled out her phone, fairly sure that no one would mind, given that they were already engrossed in the next story of valour and excitement.

There was a new message from Loki. 

She furrowed her brow, taking another forkful of spaghetti as she opened the message. Two photos loaded, and her stomach clenched. More screenshots of potential donors. Although the profiles did not contain any photos, she didn’t need to see the faces of strange men to feel unease at even their theoretical presence in her life. Each one, irrespective of description and documentation felt more and more wrong. And it wasn’t like Loki was picking obvious duds that she could easily say no to either. Somehow, he managed to find the fanciest,  and the most exceptional ones, those that could surely not be real human beings. They were all practical, athletic, adventurous… Some might say were similar to her, but what bugged her the most was that there was not even a shred of commonality with Loki. Surely, that was what they should be looking for? She couldn’t tell whether this was a conscious decision spurred by a need to create as much distance between himself and the donor, or whether these were simply the features he liked in a person. But whatever it was, none of these men were Loki, and none of the profiles even had a spark.

Despite Loki’s unknowable strategy for finding a donor, Sif’s was much more straightforward. She had used all the filters to their maximum ability, and in every category put what she associated most with Loki. Somehow a tall, dark-haired lawyer with green-blue eyes was not to be found on the sperm bank database. He was one in a million, in every way possible. A distinction he would ordinarily preen over, but maybe not with his diagnosis.

Her eyes drifted back to her phone screen. The latest man was a fencing champion, who had done modelling as a teen, and was apparently top of his year in med school. By all metrics of excellent breeding, this man had to be a sperm jackpot. If only it weren't for the tiny complication that Sif didn’t feel anything. Nothing at all. No excitement, no spark of interest, no dreamy thoughts. All there was, was an increasing sense of dread clawing in the pit of her stomach.

He was wrong. All of them were simply wrong.

“-Sif?” Fandral asked, waving a hand in front of her phone screen.

She looked up, dazed.

“Earth to Sif? Is someone home?”

“Huh?”

Volstagg snuck a look over her shoulder and bellowed a laugh as he saw Loki's scowling icon, patting her back so hard that her fork nearly clattered out of her hand.

“Has Loki been sending you such exciting love missives that he’s transported you to a whole other world?” he chuckled.

Her grip on her phone tightened fractionally as the screen went black.

Hogun shot him a dubious look, exchanging a quick glance with Fandral.

“Nothing like that,” she said, not quite meeting any of their eyes. “It’s just more research.”

“Resear-“ Volstagg started, only then to remember what Loki and Sif had told them several weeks ago. “Oh.”

After the movie incident, they had decided to open up to the rest of the gang about the diagnosis, if for no other reason than to prevent such major disasters from ever happening again. Everyone had sincerely sounded dismayed while promising endless support, but at the end of the day it wasn't their problem. She envied that they could go about their days and forget that her problems existed in the first place.

An uneasy silence settled over the room, and she began to roll a massive ball of spaghetti around her fork.

“So…” Fandral said, trying to lean in casually instead of away as his instincts screamed at him. “How’s that going? Have you guys found a…” he paused, looking for a word, “baby-daddy yet?”

Hogun flinched, as fire sparked in Sif’s eyes.

“Loki will be the only one my kid call’s ‘daddy’,” she said sharply.

He sucked on his teeth, well aware that he had backed himself into a corner, wedged right between a rock and a hard place. There was no way this could end well. So, he did what any man with even the smallest self-preservation instinct did when poking a territorial foe: He raised his hands in surrender.

“Of course, I just meant… you know…a donor or whatever they’re called…” He sighed, running a hand through his artfully unruly mane.

“You should stop talking,” Hogun said quietly, willing Fandral to shut up for once in his life. But it was a fool's errand.

“Look,” Fandral said taking a deep breath, “I don’t actually know what to call this person. I’m not actually trying to be shitty… You know that, right?”

Her flinty expression wavered, and she deflated, her shoulders sagging.

“I know,” she sighed, “I’m sorry. All of this donor hunting is putting me on edge… This isn’t what I thought my life would be like.”

“That’s understandable,” Volstagg nodded sagely, clearly having already forgotten his involvement in starting this particular conversation. “Trying to find someone who fits your vision of a family is hard. Especially when you already have a vision of how your life will unfold, and that is dashed to bits.”

She blinked. That was exactly the problem.

Volstagg chuckled quietly at her look of recognition.

“Hilde and I had very different visions of our future too when we were young,” he said with a small smile. “Policing had never been my dream, nor had to be a stay-at-home mum been hers.”

“Oh?” Fandral asked, leaning in with genuine curiosity this time. “What did you actually want?”

“Well…” Volstagg said, slowly setting what was left of his chicken leg in his Tupperware box and snapping the lid shut. “When I was young and full of dreams, I had started to study the culinary arts, hoping to start my own restaurant someday, and Hilde had dreamt of being a secondary school teacher. She's always been a whiz at chemistry.”

She hadn't known that. How hadn't she known that? She's known Volstagg for seven years, how had this not come up before?

“What stopped you?” Sif asked quietly.

He smiled wryly, and wiped his hand on a napkin, taking time to wipe each finger with vigour.

“Did you know that Einar turns eleven this year?” he asked casually.

She furrowed her brows. What did that have to do with-?

Oh.

“He was born approximately five months after I quit culinary school and joined the police constable training scheme. We needed a stable income, and if I could work while getting my degree in professional policing practice, then that was what I had to do…”

“And Hilde had to drop out to take care of Einar,” Sif said, thinking aloud. “I’m so sorry, Volstagg. I had no idea-  I should've realised-“

He shook his head and all the seriousness melted away in an instant, leaving only warmth. The man was sunshine incarnate. Second only to Thor's puppy-dog ways.

“How would you have known? Hilde and I rarely talk about that. Let bygones be bygones, you know? It does nothing to dwell on old dreams when there are plenty of new dreams to be excited about.” He pulled out his phone and showed them his lock screen. It was a family picture with himself, Hildegund and their four children. It was not an orderly photo, as some kids were pulling each other’s hairs, bunny ears were made, and some were in motion. It was pure madness, and yet it was an active and energetic and happy photo. “Our life might be unruly and wild, and nothing like what we imagined it would be, but it is a happy life.”

Her heart warmed at the image. That’s what she wanted more than anything. A happy life for herself and Loki. Something that would feel right when she looked at pictures years down the line. A life that she could look back on and know that they were all as happy as they could possibly be. Together every step of the way.

She knew what she needed to do.

By the time Sif clocked out of work and got home, Loki was already at the dining table, clacking away at the computer. He smiled as she came in, and hung her coat and hat on the coat rack, shedding the weight of the day both literally and metaphorically. It was good to be home.

“Sif,” he hummed, swivelling to face her.  “Did you have a good day?”

She took him in and smiled in answer. He looked a little dishevelled, having probably run his hand through his hair reflexively over the course of the day, undoing any shape that his coiffure may have had in the morning. He’d lost his tie, his sleeves were rolled up, and while his shirt was still tucked in and form-fitting, the two topmost buttons had been popped open. He looked so at ease that he could have fooled anyone but her if it simply wasn’t for the absentminded way in which he was picking at his palm.

He was tense.

She walked over to him and leaned down. She pressed a small kiss to his lips, lingering for just a moment, and cradled the back of his neck.

“I missed you,” she said quietly, her eyes crinkling.

“I’m right here,” he promised, reaching up to twine their fingers together. “I’m not going anywhere.”

The corners of her lips quirked up, and she nodded, wanting to hold onto this moment for just a little longer. Contentment was a hard thing in life, and Volstagg was right. They had to cherish what they had, and not what could have been.

“Loki…” she said. “We need to talk… about the donors.”

He nodded and started to turn to the computer, itching to pull up more profiles.

“Did you have a chance to look at the two I sent you earlier?”

She sighed.

“I don’t think donor 2543 is the right person for us.”

His head snapped up.

“What do you mean? He’s perfect. Smart, athletic, healthy- What isn’t there to like?”

She took a deep breath, holding it for a moment as he inspected her features in pure bafflement.

“He’s…” she willed herself not to look away. She had run through this a dozen times in her head on the way home. She had to tell him. She had to. She was not a coward, even though at this moment she really wished that she was… “Not you.”

He blinked.

“Obviously…?” he said slowly, unsure of her point. “We know it won’t work with me. That’s the entire point, right? Finding someone superior, someone who can allow you to have a biological child…”

Her lips twitched.

“But what if…I don’t want someone else’s child?”

He froze.

“What if I don’t want to look at my child and see my features and none of yours? What if I don’t want to carry a stranger’s child- a stranger who will always stand between us as a family and make a bigger and bigger rift between us, until 18 years down the line everything might collapse like a house of cards?”

“What are you saying?” he whispered, his skin going clammy under her hands, as cold sweat beaded over the back of his neck.

“I’m saying… I don’t want to be pregnant with the sperm of a man who isn’t you.”

He swallowed.

“You know I can’t father a child…”

“It’s okay," she promised, kneeling down by his side. "We can keep trying on our own time. It doesn’t matter if we’re successful or not.”

He sucked in a sharp breath, his heart beating erratically. Did that mean she didn’t want kids after all?

“Loki Odinson,” she whispered, squeezing their intertwined fingers. “Will you adopt a child with me?”

His lips parted, jaw slack with surprise.

“Let’s adopt a child, Loki. A child who isn’t a bit of you or a bit of me, but will be loved wholeheartedly nevertheless. A child we would love like it was our own flesh and blood, and cherish and protect.”

“But-“ Loki swallowed. “Don’t you want a biological child of your own?”

She shook her head.
“Actually...that never really mattered to me. I just didn’t realise it sooner. Loki,” she cupped his cheek, “Blood doesn’t matter. I just want us to be happy, and every day when we look at all these donors I see both of our hearts break because having a donor puts us on two sides of a divide, and I don’t want that for us. I want a child that’s either from both of us or neither of us. We’re partners.”

He nodded slowly, as understanding finally dawned. They were going to be in this together. There would be no ill feelings of being misplaced or just one person possibly being replaced. All problems, all joys, would be shared equally. They would be together in this as parents, in every possible way, and it felt… right.

He turned his head and pressed a kiss to the palm of her hand. He smiled against it, taking in her warmth and steadiness, as his eyes glittered with fresh tears. It had been months since he had felt tears of such unfettered joy.

“Partners," he promised. "Partners in every way.”

Chapter Text

"Well,  well,  well," Thor grinned broadly,  slapping Loki hard on the back of his laser tag vest. "I see now why Sif wanted to do this."

Loki glowered at Thor for a moment,  his heart still racing from all the exertion of battle. The idea to host a laser tag party had indeed been Sif's idea since his plan on having a storytelling competition was soundly vetoed. However,  he still much preferred being unable to hear much besides the blood in his ears to the yowling of karaoke that she had initially suggested (especially since it was no secret that half their group sounded like drowning cats any time they tried to hit a note). 

Thor nodded his head at the scoreboard, and there was no denying Sif's prowess at reaping the lights of her enemy combatants,  which unfortunately for Loki included him. For some ungodly reason,  they'd agreed to be opposite team captains,  and while Loki had highly effective stratagems, the only one on his team who had any chance of hiding was Jane. Meanwhile,  Loki,  Thor and Volstagg were either far too tall,  broad or both,  giving them an immediate disadvantage as Sif led her commandos. Sure, Darcy did not have the best aim,  and Fandral was too distracted doing his best Han Solo impressions to please Darcy, but Sif and Hogun had just the right mix of athleticism,  size,  and stealth to sneak up on his team and take them out in quick succession. 

"She was always going to win this," Loki shrugged, tapping his right shoulder light which was flickering.  "I never bet against Sif."

"Ah, such sweet love," Thor chuckled.

Loki's eyes went down the leaderboard. SIF THE SHREWD,  HOGUN THE HUNTER,  LOKI THE LAWLESS,  THOR THE TERRIFIC,  VOLSTAGG THE VICTORIOUS,  FANDRAL THE FANTASTIC,  JANE THE JUDICIOUS and DARCY THE DEADLY.  It was a predictable order, perhaps excluding Loki's lead over Thor. But Loki wasn't certain whether this was out of his genuinely superior skill, Thor being distracted by trying to protect Jane at all turns for no good reason,  or a purposeful attempt by Thor to lighten his mood before the final meeting between Loki, Sif and the adoption social worker. After that, the social worker would give her recommendations to the adoption panel that would seal their fate. She would be a key player in whether or not they could have a child.

The mere thought of it made his stomach clench. 

Thor furrowed his brows, taking in his brother’s sudden change in pallor and increasing queasiness. He squeezed his shoulder. 

"Everything will go fine,  Loki. You need not worry. You've met with the adoption lady so many times and never had any issues.  Tomorrow won't be any different."

Loki’s lips drew into a line.

"With my luck,  anything is possible," he muttered, suddenly wishing there was still the deafening roar of his own blood in his ears.  Anything to drown out the worry. 

"With your luck, you'll find the second love of your life with ease," Thor said,  glancing at Sif who had just walked through the door with the rest of her team in tow. 

Sure,  she was dripping with sweat,  her ponytail whipping about energetically as her hair and t-shirt were plastered to her skin, but he couldn't help but feel a swell of adoration at the sight. She was a battle-worn goddess, claiming the scattered pieces of their souls which were tied to their vests.  And he for one did not mind at all that she had struck him three times in the last round (compared to the two he landed on her), as the LEDs illuminated her in neon glory. After all,  few can deny a huntress her prize.

She glanced up at the leader board and burst into a wolfish grin,  eyes lit up with pure satisfaction and glee. She caught his gaze, and he inclined his head ever so little, somehow making her grin grow even wider.

Surely, no man could get this lucky twice.

"My lady," he said obsequiously, his eyes sparkling with humour.

"Surely you mean,  queen?" She smirked.

"You're not wrong," he chuckled. "With a lead like that, you are certainly grander than a mere lady-”

She preened

“-But don't get too cocky. There are still two more rounds before the game is over,  and I have a plan." He crossed the distance between them and wrapped his arms around her waist,  careful to move his laser gun out of the way. 

"Is that right?" she murmured, nuzzling his cheek.

His expression grew more and more devious, as he leant forward to whisper into her ear. 

"Do you really want to know?" He said, barely audible over the arcade noises filtering through from next door. 

"That depends on the price of the information," she said, pulling back a little with a speculative glint in her eyes.  This was far from her first-time cutting deals with Loki.

"And... if the price is too steep?"

"Then I'll trust my gut and you can trust yours."

His lips twisted into a smile.

"I guess it's a good thing then that my gut is telling me to fraternise with the enemy leader..."

“I’m not sure that’s your gut talking,” she chuckled and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

He laughed, nuzzling her cheek for a moment. He pulled back, and smiled at her, eyes warm and doting.

Damn it, he loved this woman far too much.

“No matter what happens on the battlefield, I’ll see you on the other side.”

***

Loki and Sif watched as their adoption social worker, Ms Melinda May, flicked through her tablet, opening and closing various files in quick succession. She never lingered on any of the files, instead leafing deftly through the pages like she was searching for very specific details in a book she had read hundreds of times before. She scrolled through the documents at such a rapid pace that Sif was fairly sure she could not possibly comprehend everything, right?

“It is good to see that you have both attended several information sessions,” Ms May said, not lifting her eyes from the tablet.

“We have,” Sif said with a quick nod. She tried to think of some -any- way to elaborate but drew a blank. It had been a challenge getting words out all afternoon. The butterflies in her stomach seemed to be doing summersaults, rendering her instincts effectively useless. She honestly could not tell whether she was excited, stressed, or needed to be slung over a toilet throwing up to alleviate her queasiness.

“We’ve also been to several training classes now,” Loki said. “We try to attend at least one in-person meeting a week, and some virtual ones that line up with our schedules.”

Ms May hummed in acknowledgement, though her expression did not soften. Honestly, if there was any one human being who could give Hogun a run for his money as the most unreadable person in the world, it was probably Ms May.

“I also see that you have attended several sessions on early childhood trauma and how to take care of non-infants, as well,” she remarked.  

“Yes, we have,” Sif said, and fought the urge to grimace at how robotic she sounded. Come on, Sif, get it together! Over 90% of people who get to the adoption panel stage get accepted. This is just a formality.

Ms May’s eyes skidded over the rest of the page and stopped near the end. She furrowed her brows, re-reading the same line several times before she finally looked up at them from across their glass coffee table.

“Your questionnaire expresses that you have a preference for non-infants.” She looked straight at Loki, her gaze piercing. Somehow Loki got the feeling that in another life Ms May would have been an excellent prosecutor given her ability to make you feel completely inadequate even with innocent, seemingly trivial statements.

Loki tipped his head hesitantly.

“And you are aware that older adoptees require more time and care, given that they often enter the system because their homes were no longer safe or sufficient for their care?”

He swallowed.

“Yes, we are aware.” He paused, trying to weigh his words. “They also require more trauma support.”

She leant back a little, assessing their reactions. He didn’t know what in the world Ms May saw at that moment with her experienced eye, but all he could do was pray that it wasn’t half as bad as everything that seemed to be playing on loop in his head. She set her tablet down and rested it on her thigh.

“Do you consider yourself capable to provide such support?”

Loki froze. He knew that the obvious answer she was looking for was an enthusiastic yes, but it was one thing to know the right answer and another to consider yourself capable or worthy of a task. Was he financially able to provide support for a young soul? Yes, for sure. All of the endless hours he and Sif had pushed in their youth were finally paying off, and they were lucky to be financially stable these days. Was he emotionally capable of understanding another person’s trauma? Given his own laundry list of issues, he liked to think so. If he couldn’t, who could? Was he personally capable of truly supporting a child in all its issues and worries? He certainly hoped so, but there were plenty of days where the answer to the question felt like it ought to be No. No, he wasn’t capable of so many things, and he wouldn’t truly know if he was capable until he was in the position of caring for someone who-

“We are very lucky,” Sif said, cutting into his thoughts. The butterflies were still a menace, but Ms May could not be kept waiting. Surely, any delays would reflect poorly on them, and agencies were rumoured to be absolutely ruthless… “We have the means, the time and the ability to take care of and raise a child who might have special needs either in terms of trauma or disabilities.”

“And what, may I ask, led you to this decision?”

Sif looked uncertainly at Loki. To what extent should she tell Ms May the truth? Would she find their reason stupid and cliché or would she support them? She just couldn’t tell with her never-wavering expression of what looked like… boredom?

“Well…From what we’ve heard at all the sessions, everyone always wants to adopt babies,” Sif said, “and the slightly older children become unwanted and left behind to an extent… We thought-”

“No child should ever be left behind,” Loki said, the nails of his free hand digging into his thigh.

Ms May glanced at his hand but didn’t remark on it. She made a note.

“Is this in light of your own childhood circumstances?” Ms May asked, not needing to look this up. They had covered their personal histories in exceeding detail over their previous meetings, including but not limited to Loki being abandoned as a toddler.

He nodded, lips pressed into a thin line.

Ms May made another note. A much longer note.

What did it mean? Dread twisted in his gut. Were his personal childhood circumstances going to be the nail in their adoption process coffin? Was he going to be the reason again that they can’t have children? Would Ms May stop them from even getting to the adoption panel-

Sif’s thumb stroked over the back of his hand. His head shot up, and he turned to see recognition reflected back in her eyes. Her lips quirked into an encouraging smile, and he knew that she could feel the panic rising within him, even if it was too subtle for others. She squeezed his hand slowly and exhaled. He followed suit, feeling a puff of the tension disappear.

Yes, he was probably overthinking everything again. It should be fine. It would be fine. It could be fine? Right?

Ms May locked her tablet and set it down one last time, and then did something completely disconcerting: For the first time since they’d known her, the corners of her lips tugged up.

“I think we’re officially done now.”

Loki sucked in a sharp breath and exchanged a glance with Sif, who looked as bewildered as he felt. Did she mean…

“Done as in, it’s all over…?” he said, feeling his chest tighten with renewed stress.

Her lips stretched into a real smile, and for the first time in his life, he was taken aback by a human being’s warmth. It felt far too alien to Ms May.

“Done,” Ms May said, “as in, I have everything I need to write your recommendation to the panel.”

“You’re going to recommend us?” Sif gasped, her grip tightening so hard, that Loki had to bite back a yelp. “So. we stand a chance?”

Ms May’s smile stretched even wider and she nodded.

“You are exceptional candidates for adoptive parents, Mrs Tyrsdottir, Mr Odinson. Your backgrounds are excellent, all the testimonies have been glowing recommendations, you have experience with children, and you’ve shown that you’re willing to learn and engage with all things pertaining to a potential child’s well-being.”

Huh. Loki leant back in his chair, unable to process. They were… exceptional?

“-And Mr Odinson?”

He sucked in a sharp breath, turning back to her.

“The fact that you have been through the process as an adopted child yourself, is one of the strongest aspects of your application.”

A lump formed in Loki’s throat. Had he heard correctly? He had heard correctly, right? He hadn’t ruined things. Not this time. He hadn’t messed things up by merely existing wrong. He hadn’t ruined their lives. He-

He turned to Sif, his eyes glittering with tears.

He was-

No.

They were finally going to have a chance.

Chapter Text

“Are you sure that you’ll be okay?” Loki called from their bedroom, packing the last pieces of his hiking gear into a small bag.

“I’ll be fine,” Sif called weakly from the living room where she lay sprawled on the sofa in athleisure wear, with her head pressed against the coolness of the leather sofa.

 “You’ve been looking pale all morning,” Loki said, coming in and taking a seat at the foot of the sofa. “I don’t have to go hiking with Thor, you know? I could stay here and make sure you’re okay.”

She groaned, and slowly pushed herself up, leaning back against the armrest. It was true, she was looking quite terrible and felt rather queasy, but these things surely happened with poor sleep and questionable shrimp tempura.

“I’ll be fine,” Sif insisted, though unable to muster much enthusiasm. “I don’t want to cancel on Jane and the kids. It’s been a while since I’ve last chased those little rascals around.”

Loki scooted up the sofa and took her hand. He weaved his fingers through hers and squeezed.

“You know if the panel says yes, our kid might actually be around their age,” he murmured. “And then we’ll be chasing all of them in playdates.”

“It will be absolute chaos,” Sif snickered.

“The very best kind of chaos,” he smiled, leaning in for a kiss.

She leant up with practised familiarity but turned away gagging, as her stomach protesting profusely at the strong whiff of spearmint.

“Wha-“

“Oh my gods, Loki, why do you stink?”

“Excuse me?” he said, drawing back with a flash of irritation. Loki was nothing if not pristine about all things including personal hygiene, and he would not stand to be insulted like this. Hel, he hadn’t even been hiking yet.

“You reek-“

“-I do not!”

“Yes, you do! Like someone doused you in a bucket of mint and then added another bucket for good measure!”

“What- I don’t use any-“ Wait. He had used a slightly stronger new mouthwash this morning not having found his favourite brand. Is that what this whole fuss was about?

“So, you won’t kiss me because of my mouthwash?”

"Is that what that is?" She gagged.

He grimaced. 

"So that's a no on the kiss-"

The doorbell rang.

Loki shot her a look.  "Saved by the bell," and before she could respond, pecked her cheek and ran off.

"Brother!" Thor exclaimed as Loki opened the door, seems wide open for a bear hug, only to be beaten by Magnus.

"Uncle Loki!"

Magnus pushed past both his parents and lept onto Loki, hugging his waist, and bouncing with excitement.

"I missed you!"

Loki grinned and knelt down to hug Magnus properly. The boy had sprouted like a weed over the last few years. No longer was he a tiny little toddler trying to keep up with his elder brother, but a force of his own. He bared his full mouth of sharp little baby teeth in a grin and laughed.

"My, my, Magnus, I missed you too." He stroked his soft blond hair out of his face.

"Are you coming with us to the park too?" He asked, tugging on his shirt and making large puppy eyes.

"Ah, not today." His face fell. "But Auntie Sif will be there with you and-" Loki looked around. "Where's Magni?"

"On a playdate without me," he pouted.

Loki glanced up, and Jane nodded.

"One of his schoolmates has a birthday."

"And you're sad that you don't get to play with your big brother today?"

Magnus didn't say anything, but Loki knew that look. He'd worn that look himself plenty of times. He wrapped his arms around Magnus and slowly rose to his feet, clearly having underestimated the weight of a three-year-old, and groaned.

"Don't worry, Magnus, you will have brilliant adventures with your mum and Auntie Sif today.  I promise."

Magnus sucked on his thumb.

"Really?"

"Really," Sif said, appearing behind them.

"Auntie Sif!"

"Well, hello there,  little troublemaker," she beamed.  "We're going to have a fantastic day today.  Just you, me, and your mum."

He beamed and ran to her as soon as Loki set him down.

"Brother,  shall we go?" Thor asked.

Loki exchanged a quick glance with Sif, who gave him an encouraging smile,  and nodded.

"Let's go."

***

Sif stroked Magnus’ hair, as the boy slowly fell asleep against her side. He had tried valiantly to remain awake after their trip to the park, but the lack of nap and the sheer energy expenditure of being a wild child running around a playground had zapped his energy. The last dregs of this energy had disappeared during their walk back to Sif and Loki’s home (given that it was closest). She gently shifted him, so that he could sleep comfortably on the sofa, and placed a throw over him. His little face scrunched for a moment as if he would wake again, but the bliss of sleep took him quickly.

Sif smiled fondly. Maybe soon it would be her own kid falling asleep against her side. The adoption panel itself had not been too bad according to Ms May, but they hadn’t given them an immediate answer, and Sif simply had no idea what that meant. The thought of it made her feel queasy again. She slowly got up, and glanced at Jane, who had taken advantage of Magnus’ post-park lethargy to work through some papers at the kitchen table. She scrawled something unintelligible and her brow furrowed as she worked away. Sif quietly padded up to her, and opened her mouth-

What was that stench?

She gagged as something hit her, and ran to the bathroom.

“Hmm?” Jane looked up and caught the back of Sif’s head as she ran out. She glanced to the couch, saw Magnus blissfully asleep, and smiled… that was to say until she heard the sound of Sif’s retching next door.  

She tip-toed to the bathroom and knocked. “Sif? Are you okay in there?”

There were more sounds that Jane didn’t want to think about before Sif’s strained voice called back.

“I-Give me a minute… I’ll be okay…”

Jane frowned. Sif didn’t exactly sound convincing but there wasn’t much she could do.

“Okay, but if you need me let me know.”

She walked back to the kitchen table and waited. She tried to read her notes, but her mind wouldn’t focus. What had happened? Had she missed something? What could have set Sif off? There was only one person with answers.

After a few minutes, Sif appeared in the hallway but wouldn’t step closer.

“Are you okay?”

Sif nodded briefly, but her lips were pressed into a thin line, and she looked quite pale and sickly. There was a thin sheen of sweat making her look worse as her eyes darted around, before settling on the little cup of coffee by Jane’s side. Her stomach twisted. No. She would hold it in this time.

“You don’t look so well…” Jane said, rising with her coffee in hand, and Sif took an involuntary step back. Jane stopped giving her a probing look. Sif glanced pointedly at the mug and took another step back. “Since when don’t you like coffee?” Jane in surprise.

“I-“ she gagged as the strong stench hit her again, and turned away.

Jane set the coffee aside and rushed to Sif’s side.

“What’s wrong, Sif? Are you ill?”

“I’m fine,” Sif said but found herself leaning back against the wall, feeling lightheaded.

“You’re clearly not fine,” Jane said, putting on her most authoritative voice.

Sif couldn’t tell if it was her 'Professor voice' or her 'Mum voice', but the scolding was as clear as if Frigga had done it. She slid down to the floor and sat down. Her throat still burned.

“I don’t… I’ve been feeling very nauseous lately,” she admitted.

“Do you think it’s food poisoning?” Jane asked, sitting down beside her.

She shook her head.

“I don’t think so- I did at first, but I’ve had food poisoning before and that goes away after a couple of days…”

“Do you think it’s a cold or the flu?” Jane asked, inspecting her carefully. No runny nose, no redness, no elevated temperature.  Unlikely.

“No, I- the flu would explain the light-headedness but it’s never made me nauseous before. And I’ve certainly never been nauseous at the scent of mint in my life-“

“Mint?” Jane sat upright. There was only one time in her life she’d ever been affected by mint.

Sif sighed. “Loki smelt like mint earlier and I couldn’t even…”

Jane glanced at the bathroom and caught sight of a colourful box of mixed sanitary products. She glanced back at Sif.

Could it be…?

“Have you guys been using contraceptives?”

“Contraceptives?” Sif blinked. “Not since we started tryin-“

She sucked in a sharp breath. Could it be? She started doing the math and her hands moved to her abdomen, clutching it protectively. The numbers didn’t lie.

She was late.

***

“I cannot believe you forced me to do this,” Loki groaned, forcing himself to walk. Each step was getting more and more painful, and it was becoming painfully obvious that he was no longer as fit as he used to be. Years ago he could have done this hike with ease, after all, what was such a measly hike for someone who went on daily 5mile runs, but those days were long gone. His muscles burned, aching from someplace deep within that he could not cool. Meanwhile, Thor simply stomped around without a care in the world. Loki glowered.

“Forced is a strong word, brother,” Thor grinned, turning to face him. Sure, Thor was sweating hard too, but his brother somehow managed to glow with vitality, while Loki was fairly sure he himself looked like a feral cat digging through trash. No, he was sure that he just looked like trash. “You didn’t have to come, I merely challenged you to a day out in nature.”

“I should have known it was a bad idea… Nature and I have always had a way of not getting along,” Loki growled.

Thor laughed.

“Are you thinking of that one time you touched poison ivy? Or that time a frog sprung at you-? Oh! Or that time-“

“All things which are very rich coming from you,” Loki huffed. “Like you were not a walking-talking disaster who broke his arm twice trying to climb trees, broke a leg trying to do an action-hero leap, and literally met his wife by getting run over.”

“Run over by love,” Thor grinned, his face lighting up like he was the sun itself.

“Run over by an all-terrain vehicle in the middle of a city.”

“And it was the best thing that ever happened in my life.”

Loki made a gagging noise.

“You mock, but you’ve literally been in love with Sif for decades and now you’re adopting a child together! We’ve both come a long way.”

“We might be adopting a child,” Loki amended, less out of irritation than a force of habit.

"Come now,  brother! You will! You were meant to adopt a child, it is as clear as day to me and everyone else."

Loki’s lips pressed together into a thin line, and for a moment a heaviness settled across his features. He had gone through every possible outcome of the adoption panel in excruciating detail, and while he knew intellectually that their chance of being accepted for adoption was around 90%, a little voice in the corner of his mind could not help but overpower all the statistics and common sense. He frowned.

Stupid brain.

He sighed and ran his hand through his hair and grimaced at how wet it felt.

“I’m sure you’re right…” Loki made a noise of disgust.

Thor raised an eyebrow, watching his brother closely.

"What is it?"

Loki pulled a face.

“I’m not going to say it again.”

“Say wha-?“

You’re right.

Thor burst into a grin.

"Why, brother," Thor smirked, wrapping a sweaty arm around Loki’s shoulders. “I believe that’s the first time you’ve ever admitted I’m right,” Thor chuckled.

Loki scoffed and tried to push Thor away, but instead got pulled into a bear-hug.

"Wh-what are you doing?" Loki growled, trying to extricate himself,  but to no avail. No amount of kicking and slithering was going to free him.

"What does it look like? I'm hugging you," Thor snickered. “There’s nothing wrong with hugging your own brother.”

"You stink, get off me!" Loki shoved him off. Thor guffawed, clutching his stomach as laughter rippled through him.

"Eurgh," Loki groused, trying to wipe himself clean like Lady Macbeth if Lady Macbeth were trying to shake off the taint that was a brotherly hug. "Why did you do that?"

"Because hell is about to freeze over since you admitted I’m right, and I thought I should keep you warm," Thor grinned, winking at him. 

"You are an oaf," Loki growled.

"So I've heard," Thor chuckled.  "But you know what? I'm a happy oaf."

Loki narrowed his eyes and mumbled something about self-aware idiots still being idiots

“So, listen to me for a change, and maybe you too will find happiness.”

Loki scoffed, stepping to the side to put just a little more distance between himself and Thor in case Thor got any more questionable ideas.

“Forgive me if I don’t take your sage advice, Thor, but in my experience, your way tends to lead to broken limbs or long lectures from mother about responsibility.”

Thor snorted.

“Be bitter and self-righteous all you want, but I bet you that phone of yours will ring when you least expect it to and  then all your worries will melt away.”

“Likely story-“

Bzz.

They both stared at Loki’s pocket.

Bzz Bzz Bzz.

The phone…

“What are you waiting for?” Thor exclaimed, shifting Loki into action.

He took the call, staring at Thor for a moment before he turned away.

Thor stared at the back of his head, not able to parse anything useful from Loki’s monosyllabic answers and hums of acknowledgement. Who was it? Was it the panel? Did they finally have an answer? Or was it just something meaningless like a scam call?

Loki cut the call and exhaled.

“Loki?” Thor said softly. “Is everything alright?” He reached for his brother’s shoulder, but before he could grasp it, Loki turned around, his eyes brimming with unshed tears. “What-?”

“I’m going to be a father.”

***

Loki burst through the door, swinging it open as soon as he unlocked it. He’d rushed up the stairs taking two steps at a time as soon as he had bolted out of Thor’s car, dying to talk to Sif.

“Sif!” he exclaimed running into the flat, wearing the dopiest of grins. “Sif, Sif, Sif!”

He froze. Sif sat alone on the corner of the sofa, but she didn’t even look up, as she stared transfixed at a photo album Loki immediately recognised as his own childhood photos. Her face was frozen in an image, in a moment of total serenity as she gently held up a loose photo by its edges. It was a photo of Loki as a toddler, taken not long after he had been adopted. Frigga has said that it had taken him a little while to warm up to the family, but based on the radiant smile on his face while he lay looking up at Frigga claimed otherwise. It was an image of happiness. Of hope. Of their soon-to-be future.

“Sif?” Loki tapped her shoulder and she jolted, finally acknowledging him.

“Loki…” she set the photo down and slowly rose up. “Sorry, I was… elsewhere.”

“I have an approximate idea of where you were,” Loki chuckled, sitting down beside her and kissing her cheek. “Sif, we need to talk. I have something to tell you-“

“I do too,” Sif nodded.

“Please, let me go first,” Loki said. “It’s actually urgent.”

“Urgent?” Sif sat up straight. “Did something happen? Is Thor okay? He didn’t get bitten by a snake again, did he?”

Loki snorted.

“Nothing of the sort. It actually has nothing to do with him,” he said. “At least not directly.” He took a deep breath and took her hands in his. “We’re going to be parents-”

Her jaw dropped. How did he know? Had Jane told Thor and Thor told him? Surely Jane wouldn’t break her promise to keep this secret-

“-We’re officially on the adoption waiting list!”

“What-“

“They called,” Loki exclaimed, “right while Thor and I were discussing the adoption panel! We have exactly five days to give them a final answer. Can you believe it?” Loki beamed. “We’re finally going to be parents.” He let go of her hands and pulled her into an exuberant hug, pressing kisses all over her face. “We did it. After all of the waiting and agony and-“

“I’m pregnant.”

He froze.

She pulled away and watched his frozen visage. He didn’t move a muscle, instead a look of surprise was frozen in place.

She swallowed. “I guess this means we’re having two children…”

“Twins?” he snapped out of it, staring down at her abdomen.

She snorted.

“That’s really unlikely,” she said, though she knew she would need an official ultrasound and not just 3 separate pregnancy test kits to verify the number of children. But thankfully twins didn’t run in her family so it ought to be fine…

“You mean…” his eyes lit up. “We adopt and we have a newborn?”

She bit her lip and nodded slowly.

“If you want to as well…”

“If I-?” A sharp laugh escaped Loki. He got to his feet, pulling her up with one fell swoop and pulled her into his arms, spinning her around in a moment of pure giddy joy.

“There is nothing I would want more.”

Chapter Text

"Daddy?" A small hand tugged at Loki’s sleeve as they walked down the street eating ice cream on the way to Frigga and Odin’s house.

"Yes, honey?" He turned a little to look upon the upturned face of his darling daughter. She was a little girl boasting almost five years of age and her wide hazel eyes glittered with the endless curiosity of young children. She scratched her nose with her white patched hand and rubbed her equally patchy cheek. The markings were woven across her left side like upon a priceless tapestry.

Loki smiled, she was their priceless daughter.

When they first met Hela through the adoption agency, she had spent almost the entirety of her three years of existence in the adoption system. Prospective parents had come, but taking one look at the quiet little girl with the searching eyes and vitiligo, they moved on without a second glance, effectively leaving her as alone as when they’d found her.

But for Loki and Sif,  it had been different. It had been love at first sight. Something about the shy, yet precocious little girl tugged at their heartstrings, and in time they learnt that they shared many similarities. Sif more than knew what it was like to be looked at with polite disdain for not conforming with the mould that everyone insisted was right, and Loki knew the intense shyness and sorrow that grew with being forgotten in the presence of more shining figures. They knew instinctively that this was a little girl they understood and could provide a real home for. And if they hadn’t been swayed enough at that point, the first time they brought baby Ullr to see Hela he had smiled and wriggled with such joy that they knew there was no going back.

"It's only my birthday tomorrow," Hela remarked, a little line puckering between her fine, dark brown eyebrows. "Why is the surprise party today?"

He hummed faux-thoughtfully, taking another leisurely lick of his vanilla ice cream.

"Because if it’s actually on your birthday it wouldn't be considered a surprise, isn’t that right?"

She frowned with all the intensity that her little body could muster, and the line grew deeper.

"But it's not a surprise," she said. "You told me about it."

He chuckled. She had a point, and he knew it.

“Then let me ask you something,” he said slowing down just a little. “Do you like surprises?”

Her lips pulled into a small frown. The first and last time Sif had tried to surprise Hela with a trip to the local Christmas market, she had been so overwhelmed that she buried her face against Sif’s leg and refused to let go until they’d walked out of the crowded and noisy market. Perhaps it was an aversion to crowds or maybe just the general overwhelming reality of Christmas markets, but they knew better than to try that again. Now anytime they went anywhere crowded they gave her a forewarning so that she could prepare herself- a system that had worked surprisingly well so far.

She shook her head.

“Surprises are scary,” she said, looking up at him for confirmation.

“They certainly can be,” Loki nodded. “That’s why I told you, darling.”

"That makes sense," she said, all worry disappearing instantly. She lit up as she remembered the rich chocolate ice cream in her hand and chomped down on the cone making delighted cookie monster noises and devouring it all.

"Let's keep this lack of surprise our little secret, though," Loki smiled conspiratorially.

She giggled, mirroring his grin. She mimed zipping her lips with her chocolate-covered fingers and threw away the key.

Loki laughed.

"Where do you pick these things up?"

Her grin broadened, "Cousin Einar showed me!"

"Of course, he did," he chuckled, shaking his head. There was little that the merry band of children didn’t share these days.

***

They continued walking leisurely, Hela's tongue darting out from time to time to catch any errant crumbs as she held Loki's hand.

Loki made eyes at the house and squeezed her hand.

"Ready?"

She nodded vigorously and beamed, showing off all her pearly white baby teeth. She crept towards the door, and pressed her ear against it straining to hear but failing to find anything.

Loki tsked, prying her away a little and slowly opened the door, but any stealth he might have possessed was wasted as Hela dashed past him, weaving through the door like a slippery eel.

He waited for a moment, expecting a cheerful chorus of “Surprise!” to erupt. But…

Nothing.

He opened the door fully, and there was no one in the house.  Everything was as pristine as ever but the lights were off and there was no sign of anyone. That is, anyone but his daughter, who was overtaken by a sugar rush.

"Daddy, where are they?" Hela stage whispered, looking around eagerly, failing to be stealthily in trying to suss out the hidden guests. She unceremoniously poked a curtain, but finding no one behind it, moved to the next curtain.

Loki furrowed his brows. This wasn't right.  Where was everyone? They should have been here by now.

“I don’t know, darling, but I’m sure they-“

Hela gasped and pointed out a window overlooking the street, and the garden on the far end.

"They're outside!"

She ran next door into the living room with the double doors leading into the garden, followed closely by Loki. Before he could enter the door, a jubilant chorus yelled “Surprise!”

Hela squealed, reaching up for the door handle, but in her hurry did not grip it properly. She slapped on the glass door, and before any of the adults could react, her greeting committee came rushing forward. The children- all of Volstagg’s children, Thor’s boys and Val’s daughter- ran over and opened the doors from outside, and caught Hela in an over-enthusiastic group hug. She laughed giddily but frowned the instant she noticed someone missing.

The cousins all let go, and she looked around. All the elder kids were there but…

“Where’s Ullr?” she asked, searching the faces of all the other kids.

Loki took his eyes off Hela and looked at the guests properly for the first time. Anyone who was anyone to them was present. From Thor and Jane, his parents, and their friends. But two people were conspicuously missing: Sif and Ullr.

“Daddy?” she insisted, rushing back to his side. “Where’s Ullr? Where’s mummy?”

“I-“

“So sorry!” Sif called from inside the house, rushing out while holding onto an excited Ullr’s hand. He was the spitting image of Loki at that age. His little green-blue eyes sparkled as he saw them, and he waved a rainbow crown in his chubby little free hand.

“Sissy!” he beamed, trying to run free, only to encounter the immovable force that was Sif’s grip.

“Ullr!” she gasped, and ran towards him instead, catching him in a hug.

“We got you gift,” he giggled, shoving the crown at her. It was more than just a simple multicoloured plastic crown. It was adorned with colourful plastic gems and bright feathers at its base, obscuring a comb-like structure for easy fastening

“It’s so pretty,” she gasped. She bent her head forward and Sif carefully slipped it in place, stroking her hair back as she did so.

She raised her head and looked up with glee. Ullr clapped his pudgy hands and swung forward to hug his big sister. They held each other tight and exchanged one long inscrutable look before wordlessly reaching a decision. They turned together with newfound conviction and rushed off into the garden.

Sif laughed, walking towards the double doors where Loki waited with an equally amused sparkle in his eyes.

“How on earth did we wind up with such a wonderful, mad little family?” Loki murmured as Sif hooked her arm around his and rested her chin on his shoulder.

“With a dash of luck,” Sif murmured.

“A lot of hard work."

“A fair amount of struggling.”

“And a whole lot of love,” he concluded.

She cupped his face and pulled him in for a gentle kiss, smiling to herself as he rested his forehead against hers. 

Loki hummed, unable to stop himself from smiling like an idiot even now as the sound of children screaming and playing wafted through the warm summer air. Whatever the future may hold, he was sure of one thing.

Their future was glorious.