Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

In the stone walls of the dungeon, with hundreds of white cells, was a mess. A noirette was lying head-down on the ground. Enough blood was around Loki to suggest a murder. She was still breathing, very shallowly, however. To most, it was still visible.

'Most' excludes the people who don't pay attention.

In this situation, that would be the oaf-like blond rushing down the stairs, anger slamming with each step.

A powerful aura surrounded his wake and followed him as he walked, seemingly pushing the guards aside and making the prisoners tremble behind the citrus-colored gate.

"Loki,"

He reached where he wanted to be.

"Get up. We need to talk,"

The slow breaths of the god on the floor suggested she was sleeping. Quite well, might I add, but not for long as Thor slammed his hand into the bright magic wall; the noise echoed through the desolate halls.

"Wake up!" His accent was thicker as he yelled in rage.

Their face twitched with unease but otherwise, they lay still on the floor- asleep. Without any further inspection, Thor thought her dead.

"Loki?... Come on, brother, wake up...!"

The worry was fluid in his boisterous voice. Silence filled the dungeon, and Thor began to panic. Quiet spaces had always freaked him out. Not preferring fetching a guard, Thor slammed his fist into a small panel to the side of the cell. To his desire, the walls dissipated and fell.

He rushed in to, in his eyes, save his brother.

The splattered blood on the white floor made a disconcerting squelch as the blond's boots trampled their way toward the still god.

Loki was alive but very unconscious. Even as Thor twisted their body, they didn't stir. He was aware enough to be careful, but every brotherly instinct had kicked in; he was ready to smash the skull of whoever hurt his sibling.

"Oh, dear..." his eyes wandered across the mess of black hair covering her face.

With careful hands, Thor turned Loki onto their back to see the damage.

Slowly and carefully, the mop of hair got moved from Loki's face, and he observed the damage; her lip got busted in multiple spots, a few cuts were on his cheeks, and most importantly were bruises strewn across their skin. Her left eye was black and blue. A red mark was on their jawline from a slap rather than a punch. Boiling rage began settling in Thor's chest, attacking his lungs first. Loki hissed as her consciousness fled and came back, being with it the sharp pain.

"Loki? Brother, are you awake...?" He was cautious.

Despite his regularly boisterous behavior, he had made a note to keep down the volume for Loki.

"...'m not your brother..."

A look of confusion and hurt flashed over Thor's face. Of course, he was Thor's brother! Did he mean biologically?

"I-... I don't understand what you mean, Loki."

"I mean, " she shifted to sit up, slowly moving to avoid dizziness, "I'm your sister." Their green eyes pierced Thor's with a calmness that didn't reflect the aches she was masking.

"How might you be a maiden? You were born as a prince, were you not?" Thor's being polite, but the confusion came off harsh.

Loki sighed and hung her head before sitting up straight, facing him head-on.

"I'm gender fluid, Thor." She carried no emotion in her face, nor their voice; much too focused on the pain in her abdomen.

A subtle head tilt urged them to continue and another sigh escaped her lips, "That means, one day I'm a boy, the other I'm a girl, some days I'm neither, and some I'm both. Is there a problem?" Their hooded emerald eyes bore into Thor's shockingly blue ones like a grating drill.

"Ah, so what do I call you? Do you still wish to be addressed by masculine terms, Loki?" his question surprised the other god; nobody had ever taken the chance to make her comfortable with specific terms other than Frigga. Not even their father. Trying to avoid the tears that may have welled up, she looked down, "I would prefer maiden's terms. However... I am still Loki, fret not."

Thor nodded, processing everything fully.

"Well, sister, how are you feeling?"

Their lips tugged upwards in a small and subtle smile.

"Quite frankly, I feel like shit." Her brother let out a small chuckle, "This headache won't leave my brain alone either,"

"I think now would be the time to take you to our healers, Loki." Thor slowly pushed himself off the floor and offered a hand to his sister.

"Thank you, Thor."

"Would it hurt you to say brother every now and then?"

She laughed lightly, "Maybe, I haven't tried."

"What if I were to melt as soon as the word left my mouth!" they feigned mock horror; face flashing with sorrow.

"Of course, sister! Perhaps a bilgesnipe would come from the floor and gobble you up." He jested along with his sibling to try and keep the lighthearted mood between them.

It was nice to hear Loki's genuine laugh after so long.

"Ha ha... I never knew you were a comedian." They exclaimed sarcastically with her usual smug smirk. Once she was standing he let go of her hands and began to turn around, already rushing to leave their so-called room.

She winced as her smile pulled at the litter of cuts and bruises across her jaw.

"Oh right! We should probably get you healed now," Thor muttered slightly in embarrassment if forgetting.

He began walking out of the trashed cell, but before he left fully, he heard a quiet, "Th-Brother...?" come from Loki. The god turned around with a smile and had a second of realization.

"Oh, my apologies, Loki, I'll get you to the healers!" He walked back over and put his arms under her legs and neck to carry her comfortably to the healing room.

"Thank you, Thor."

He nodded in appreciation and started walking briskly towards the healer's chamber.

As they arrived at the gold-emblazoned doorway, they saw a certain elder in the corner, the eye of whom was glowing intimidatingly. Once she caught his gaze, Loki shrunk in on themself.

It was Odin.

She turned her head into Thor's chest and closed her eyes, wishing to be as far away from here as possible.

"Hello, my sons,"

Loki grimaced against Thor's armor and dug their face in even further, curling her hands around the sharp edges.

"Actually, Father. I wish to speak to you about something," Thor worded carefully, sparing a glance at the god in his arms.

"What would you like to speak about?"

She opened one eye and slightly nodded to Thor's awaiting face.

"Well, you see. Loki isn't your son."

"Of course I know that, I'm the one who took him!" He laughed full-heartedly, something Loki frowned at further.

"No... Father." Strong start, "She's your daughter. For now, at least."

The laughter from moments before fell from his face, "Are you trying to tell me my son isn't a man? Not the god he was made into?"

Loki shivered at the calculated words he had used and blatant ignorance towards his supposed children.

"Yes. Loki is the goddess of mischief. Still Loki, still her. Different being. Now a woman. Maybe even later, she will be a man again! Or neither." He stole a few words from Loki's explanation since it had seemed to work before for himself.

"Anyhow, that's not the point, father; she is still our family. No matter which gender she identifies with at that time."

Odin scowled, "The only things that may change genders are monsters, and my son is not a monster."

After all of that, Loki was tired of it. She tapped Thor's shoulder, and he let her down slowly. He prepared to have his ears filled with inappropriate insults. "Do you know how long I've been like this? How long have I known that I'm gender fluid? Huh?" She stared into his eye. Loki was trying to be intimidating, despite her visibly injured body.

"Well, I would hope it's a recent discovery."

"847 years."

Silence filled Odin's voice, echoing his thoughts.

"Mother knew. She was the only one who knew! Gods bless her heart." She yelled, limping to get closer with each word.

The noirette's facade crumbled, and their lip began to quiver uncontrollably, "You never cared! No matter what I did! I tried so many times, I've almost told you before! Of course, you cut me off then." Her eyes burned into what was left of Odin's putrid golden iris.

"I am your daughter. Whether you like it or not."

Loki spun on her good heel and limped back to Thor, "I don't wish to be here anymore."

However, before they could exit, Loki's legs gave out under them as they collapsed from exertion. Apparently, their injuries were worse than she let on. Thankfully, Thor had been there in time and easily scooped her up to continue their journey elsewhere.

"Goodbye," Thor muttered, barely turning to face Odin.

The Allfather was stuck staring at the entrance, which was now devoid of the two siblings. He, mistakenly, felt there was no reason for Loki to get mad like that. Despite his ability to know all, he could never understand Loki.

Thor's brain scrambled, trying its hardest to find where to go next; Nilfheim? Alfheim?

"Midgard!" He lit up as the thought popped into his head. Slowly though, his excitement diminished as he thought more realistically, and he was left slightly more uncomfortable than his average days.

"Loki, would Midgard be okay for you?"

She stirred a little and mumbled, but assumed the answer was a 'yes'.

"Okay then, Heimdall. Get ready..."

He adjusted the goddess in his arms and spun his hammer with mighty force before letting it pull him off his feet and along the Bifrost. As they got closer, he let the power drain from his hands and slowly skidded to a stop just before the golden orb of Heimdall's dwelling.

"Hello, Thor. I see you've brought Loki. Is she well?" a minute smirk was plastered on the all-seeing man's face. Nothing would get past his expanse of knowledge.

For a second, Thor was confused but quickly returned to his thoughts, "Heimdall, we need to go to Midgard!"

He closed his tired golden eyes and sighed softly, "For how long?"

Even more, confusion filled Thor's head, "I do not know, from a few weeks to months, perhaps. It depends on Loki; it's her choice."

Heimdall nodded, turned around, grabbed the sword, and twisted it in the gate's key. "Go on then," A small smile was carved into his features, "I'll make an excuse for Odin." He winked.

"Thank you, my friend," Thor said as he jumped through the newly opened portal.

Heimdall smiled as the siblings left. When he saw the last of their bodies go through, he turned the sword back and pulled it out,

"Now... time to deal with an angry godfather."

They all sat around a small stack of cards on the table.

A few were smashed together on the couch, and more were on the floor, sitting like children. All of them were waiting for whatever was to happen.

Tony slammed down his second-to-last card and said, "Uno!"

The person to go next was Natasha; she had four cards left.

"Draw four, Steve-y," she slyly slid a +4 card on the deck.

He grimaced but then lit up once he finished scouring over his cards, "Ha ha! Draw six Clint." The super-soldier put down a +2 over her card.

The following only laughed, then proceeded to place another +4 card, "Draw ten, Bucks."

Barnes sighed and slowly began to pull cards from the face-down stack, "I hate this game..."

To their surprise, a beam of light crashed through the ceiling and into the space behind them. Everybody jumped up, readying themselves for whatever was going to come out of it. Was it another alien attack? Rogers slowly maneuvered his way to stand in front of Bucky.

The light dimmed down, and the 'laser' zipped back up into the sky. Out of it fell a tired Thor and a seriously damaged body.

"I'll be damned," Tony remarked, lowering his pulsars, "if it isn't point-break, back from the dead."

Thor only sighed. The mood swiftly changed like the strike of lightning as the body rolled over.

"Loki?!"

Chapter Text

Awoken by the shout, Thor quickly sat up, as if possessed by rigor mortis. Loki shrivelled on the ground; completing their full rotation and ending up on her right shoulder, lying fetally.

“Okay, I’ll be the first to ask: what the fuck?” Tony gritted out his words, visibly fighting off an oncoming panic attack.

With a disgruntled noise, Thor gave a lopsided grimace towards his vocal assailant, “Huh?”

Before the smaller man began shouting again, Roger barged in to get him away from his own triggers. He shuffled him into a stool at the small bar to the right of their abandoned game table.

Natasha decided to pick up where he left off, “Why is your brother here?”

His response was another grunt before begrudgingly erecting himself to face them eye-to-eye. Once on his feet, he took a second to presumingly collect himself with a rough drag on the face and yanked his hair from his sight.

“She is here… because she can no longer stay where she was held before.” Thor’s eyes were half-lidded and his words seemed to slip past his mouth in laziness, but they got out well enough. Either he didn’t notice or care to notice the minute signs of confusion on his team’s faces, before continuing, “Well, I also thought you all were the safest people to take refuge with.”

Trying to avoid conflict– contrary to what Tony had done– the Avengers continued to glance at one another as if communicating what they should be concerned about first.

Clint took responsibility to reply next, “So, you want to ‘take refuge’ with us?” He let out a cruel chuckle, “... and what makes you think we’ll agree to that?”

“Seems you’ve forgotten, buddy, but that god right there… was in my head.”

To this– aggressive– response, Thor’s face wound up even tighter and he spat back, “I have not forgotten a single thing about my sibling’s history in this city. However, I think you would speak more kindly, knowing what I’ve seen on her body.”

With this leading sentence, he knelt down and gently pulled at the buttons on his sister’s shirt, causing it to fall open and reveal her pale chest. The small group across from the lying body and their brother had their breath taken away at the shocking sight.

Every inch of her skin was tainted with something. Around the pectorals were deep gray scars likely from a serrated blade slicing through skin and adipose tissue. Along the medial line of her abdomen was, what looked like, a surgery scar with small dips of stitches lining it. From the most lateral portion of her ribs came a large lamp-sized bruise painted in deep greens, browns, and the most vibrant red on her body. A speckling of other bruises traced her protracted hips and into the shadowed hem of her pants.

Safe to say, the sight was not well-received.

“God, why are you showing us this, Thor??” He heard someone call with a sneer of disgust.

“This… is what the guards did. It was either: I left her there, to suffer their punishment or… I brought her to you. Where I was hoping you could keep her safe like I have been unable to do so far.” His response was mumbled out while he lovingly put each button back in its respective place.

The group was once again left to look between each other and settle their moral arguments silently.

“I know that she has done terrible things… but this is my sister, I can’t turn a blind eye to needless torture any longer.”

Natasha shook her head, “You are unbelievably lucky that Bruce opted out of this game night.” Her head flooded with images of the tower rampaged by the verdant beast, “... I understand where you’re coming from, but you have to give us all a moment to decide. I can think of three people– in this tower– who want anything other than to see their face again.”

“I thank you for your consideration, Lady Romanoff.” Each word was thought out carefully before tumbling from his spot on the floor, “Would a night be enough time?”

As usual, they exchanged nods and glances before Natasha agreed verbally.

“You can stay here while we decide.” Her typically calm voice had a hint of pity in it.

“And who are you to decide that? Ms. Romanoff, may I remind you whose name this tower is under?”

From the bar–with a cinnamon-coloured drink in his hand– the shorter man angrily pointed at her with paragraphs of unsaid accusations.

Rogers was quick to attempt to pull him back, suggesting he’s been drinking and he can’t rightfully argue, but no attempts at calming would get him to stop; especially when he’s been drinking.

“Man of Iron, I know you have your apprehensions, and rightfully so, but please, you don’t understand-” A whiskey glass smashing by his feet cut him off quickly.

“I understand that your brother here was the one who gave me nightmares every night for years straight. I understand that he killed half a million New Yorkers, people we work to save, in just a month. I understand that he genocided his own race back home, and tried to end ours the same way. I think that you are the one who doesn’t understand, Thor.” He sighed before taking a few shaky steps closer, “No matter what he went through back home because of Daddy, my species went through worse because of him.”

Blue eyes were sparking under the oppressive gaze of his opponent. He forced a slow breath out to prevent an accident and tried to reply, “You are drunk, Stark.”

He patiently watched as the brazen man made quick work of rushing at him and taking a drunken swing at his face.

Steve took hold of his bicep and yanked him back. The weak punch didn’t leave a mark but Thor still held his head in its twisted position with a fire in his eyes. While the captain dragged a snarling and spitting Stark towards the hall with the elevator, Clint forced the others into a small huddle to discuss.

The god’s ears weren’t sensitive enough to make out their exact words, however, he perked up at the word “stay”.

They were in the tight circle for quite some time; enough time for Thor to have sat himself and lifted Loki’s weightless head into his lap. Just for mutual comfort.

“Okay, we’ve decided.” Natasha was the one to deliver the final verdict.

Thor’s azure eyes were wide with hope, fully prepared to be crushed.

“You both will stay here.” She smiled weakly, not to be too happy at the arrangement, “Loki can remain on the medical floor until they are recovered.”

He let out a sigh of breath he didn’t know he was holding. The hand that was running itself through Loki’s blood-matted hair shook and faintly flexed in its position.

“Thank you… truly, I can’t express my gratitude enough, my friends.”

“Yeah, yeah, just don’t make a habit of bringing terrorists home, alright?” Clint’s witty remark at least managed to pull a chuckle out of Thor.

“Now, we need to find a way to safely get Loki to the medical floor.” Romanoff quickly brought them back to the issue at hand.

“That’s no issue, Lady Romanoff! I can easily carry Loki by myself.” Thor was quick to reassure her and take care of the proposed issue all in one sentence.

“Of course you can.” A jealous remark from the blond.

He first moved Loki’s head to the floor before crouching to face her dorsal side. Very gently, almost too gentle, he slid one hand under her scapulas and another below the crook of her knees. With minimum strength required, Thor steadily lifted Loki’s body, letting her head fall back against his right shoulder. Once fully sure they wouldn’t be jostled too much, he finally looked up to meet his teammates’ faces.

“Show me the way.”

Both Natasha and Clint had been there frequently but– as Bucky was still getting used to the tower layout– they looked to the soldier to take the lead.

He wanted to refuse in his heart but the anxiety of having two spies against him caught up and he huffed out a sigh before turning on his heel towards the same hall Steve had fled to earlier. Under his breath, he was muttering all numbers of swears but nothing absurd; as he was still in his right mind.

After reaching the four elevators, he took about a minute and a half to choose which one he needed (truthfully, they all went to the same place– neither Romanoff nor Barton told him, however) and decided on the third from the left. He pressed the button with slight hesitation and once in the elevator, he began to get even more nervous.

“It’s the… 54th floor… right?” The deep and unsteady voice cut through their amused silence.

Clint simply tapped the right button– floor 63– and gave him a short grin so he wouldn’t feel too bad. Bucky quickly pressed the button after giving a curt nod towards his teammate.

The descent from the 80th floor to the 63rd was awkward and silent, save for the raspy breaths of one unconscious body, but Thor was soon to fill the wordless space, “So, you are a new Avenger, I’m guessing?”

The recipient of the question was staring at the ground for a few moments until he realized the question was aimed at him.

“Oh, yes. I’m new. I guess…” Every word out of his mouth was dripping with a lack of self-confidence.

“What might I call you, ‘new guy?’” His lips split into a bright smile, encouraging the man in black to answer. When Thor’s sharp blue eyes met the cold greyish-cerulean sea of his conversation partner his smile faltered.

“My name is Bucky– or James. Barnes,” He dropped his eyes as quickly as they had lifted, “I’m assuming you’re Thor, and that’s Loki?” His gloved hand pointed to the shivering body when deciding who’s who.

Thor nodded in agreement, “It is a pleasure to meet you, Sir James.”

“Likewise.” His hammered-in manners talked before he did and he rolled his eyes at the trained response.

The almost invisible people behind the two were sharing looks of confusion and cringed at their friends’ mannerisms. Red lips mouthed, “He’s so awkward.” and cracked hands signed back, “Your fault. Make him watch ‘R-O-M-C-O-M’.”

She rolled her eyes with a snort which drew the attention of their yellow-bellied friend.

Bucky pitifully furrowed his eyebrows and she offered a faux innocent ‘puppy-dog’ stare in return. He– luckily– turned away before she forced tears.

They were still giggling to themselves when the doors opened at last.

Natasha quickly summoned the memory of where her absentee friend was staying, most of the time, and rushed to warn Thor– and maybe Bucky, too, “Hey, guys, watch out. Bruce might be on this floor, and if he sees Loki, things might go by the wayside.”

She patted the brute’s arm before taking the first step out and scanning the area for a lilac shirt hidden under a sterile lab coat. When no sign of him was available, she pulled Thor out of the elevator by his left bicep– the one not supporting Loki’s head– and along the forward-facing hallway. Her boots stopped at the fifth room on the right and the third office on the left: Hospital Room 7C.

“Alright, get them laid on the bed and I’ll get some nurses to fix Loki up for you. There are chairs in there so if you want to stay with Loki, you can. Or you can stay in your room on the common floor. Whatever you want.”

“Also, should go without saying, but we’re gonna set up security outside the door so we don’t have another world-ending event at risk.” Clint roughly added without true spite.

After their prefacing, Thor was eager to get Loki healed, finally. He walked in and– like he picked her up– set her down slow and steady, so as not to upset their injuries. The hospital-given blankets (slightly thicker than regular; for the winter months) were folded along the foot of the bed and Thor wasted little time to politely unfold and lay them over Loki’s legs. He knew about Loki’s cooler blood and wished to prevent the slowing that came with freezing temperatures.

Following the double-double-checking to ensure Loki was comfortable in their unconsciousness, he turned around to thank the two by the door, “I appreciate your help, friends. Without you, I’m unsure of where I would go… I am lucky to have such kind teammates.”

Clint smiled at him and glanced at Bucky, noticing his confused but grateful face. “Does he always talk like that?” Once Thor had turned back to Loki, he whispered, “Yes. Sadly, they do.”

Barnes chuckled a sigh and turned to leave, almost running into a doctor coming in, “Sorry, excuse me.”

“Oh shit.” Hearing Clint’s shock, he whipped around.

“Hey… Bruce.”

Chapter Text

Bucky was just outside the doorway, staring back at what felt like an up-and-coming murder scene.

Clint and Thor, whom the severity of the situation hadn’t hit yet, were both locked onto the newest addition to the small room. Loki– who hasn’t woken up yet– was blissfully unaware of the breakneck tension.

“No one told me of our new patient.” His cold voice cut through the mechanical beeps and dings of the ECG.

At once, Clint’s spy training and pre-superhero life took over his mouth, “Oh, we expected the nurses to alert you, did they not? My bad, man.”

All the while, Bucky was running through his head the scenarios of whether he should stay or go to the common floor. Currently, he thought the Hulk would kill everyone if he left, and he thought he would die if he stayed; so he had to gamble his self-worth to make up for the cost of either.

“No. None of my coworkers alerted me. As if they were snuck through my surveillance.”

Compared to the genuinely super-powered teammates he had, Bucky’s life was much more futile.

“I promise that wasn’t our intention, sir Banner.” Thor decided to speak up, finally recognising the upset strain in his friends’ words.

Does one troubled mind really compare to five stable ones?

“It may not have been, but when you bring a terrorist into my hospital, I’m not going to be very happy. Especially when this one tried to kill the people that I work to save.”

It was definitely a noble sacrifice, and it would be better for him to die rather than for multiple people to become casualties.

“Bruce.” Clint snapped.

He believes it’s too late to intervene, now.

“I know the feeling. You want to get revenge. I do too,” Thor twisted his head to the blond beside him, “We’ll figure it out when we don’t have to kill someone in a coma.” The calm blue of Barton’s eyes was at war with the raging chocolate of Bruce’s.

“Fine.” He whispered, unsure whether he could even raise his voice if he wanted. On instinct, Barton made a jarring motion with clawed hands facing up; ‘what?’.

“I said: Fine. Clint. I’ll wait, but you better have a backup plan.” With a louder-than-speaking voice, he impatiently answered, “I need to fix your hearing aids soon.” Clint clearly heard that as his face then bunched up into a wrinkly chuckle, “I can hear just fine. You just never grew out of your teen shyness, bud.”

Bruce and Bucky both watched as his hearing was proven faulty when a sickly silhouette rose into a hunched standing figure. Their showing accompanied by a droning loss of heart rate on the monitor.

“Where am I?”

A growl sounded and the cropped hair of Clint stood on its end as he whipped around, ready to disarm or disable at the drop of a pin. Thor, to nobody’s surprise, lit up with hope and also swivelled to face the shrivelled body of his sibling.

“Loki!”

At the shout, the pallid aventurine-coloured eyes narrowed in fear; immediately observing body language for signs of approach. The scrappy button-up was clinging to his drawn shoulders in a way that made them look smaller.

“Apparently, you didn’t hear,” their voice snarled, “Where am I?”

Thor’s eyes widened in realization.

This was not the Loki he knew and loved.

Clint’s finger lay over the arrow at his hip, ready to fire at the new threat.

“Answer me!”

In the blink of an eye, the arrow was on his compacted bow. The bystanders of the room had to decide how best to neutralize their opponent– and fast.

Loki’s eyes continued flickering from face-to-face-to-body-to-body. They quickly locked on to Bruce, recognizing him from a faint memory. Dangerous.

Under Loki’s gaze, Bruce’s green veins began to grow with the rising blood pressure: “Thor, grab him.” They– par Bucky– knew the rage holstered in Loki and how they would fight them to the death if needed. Therefore, it was understandable to let someone stronger than them “put Loki to sleep”.

As Thor’s worried eyes joined Loki’s frantic blues. The noirette quickly darted to the closest door– the washroom of their hospital room. Clint let his bowstring snap to normal and sent an arrow flying at the door of the bathroom, letting it lodge into the metal doorframe to try and prevent the door from closing. Loki was a step away when it anchored itself; they quickly readjusted with a more primal urgency and turned to get Thor away so the arrow could be dealt with.

Watching the turn of the heel, Thor recognized his brother’s typical defence and flung his hand at the assaulting leg, grabbing and twisting the ankle to make sure they couldn’t escape.

Noticing the other Avengers watching them– not understanding they were stuck still and had no idea how to help– Loki struggled in his brother’s grasp; doing their damndest to wretch his leg out of Thor’s hand. They turned with Thor’s twisted wrist and snapped his leg down with all his might, succeeding in separating the two.

Taking the force of the yank and slamming their foot into the ground, Loki resumed their one-step-sprint to the “safe” room.

Clint fired another arrow at the frame– this time, inside the strike plate– disabling the doorknob from completing its circuit. Once Loki crossed the threshold and began their hasty attempt at dislodging the arrows, Thor threw both arms around Loki’s smaller shoulders and quickly turned him around and pinned them; not unlike how you’re supposed to hold a frightened bird.

Nonsensical caterwauling and howling filled the room. Words of a language long since forgotten on Earth were shrieked at the aggressor holding them.

Thor turned to face his team with a grimace of disgust and extreme worry etched into his face. Banner and Clint looked knowingly at the disorderly patient. Bucky, still in the room, was struggling to maintain a calm composure; quickly recognizing the traumatic responses and primitive actions he exhibited not too long ago in the person writhing less than 10 feet from him.

“Bruce… I know what this is.” the blond guiltily stared at his friend, bow still cocked and ready to fire, “Thor, you gotta slam his head against something!”

“... Is that the only solution?” He hesitated, having to shout over the squealing god in his arm.

“What do you think, dipshit?” Clint yelled at his friend, bow still drawn taut.

Thor sighed with early set-in guilt before spreading his hand across Loki’s occipital bone and clenching their black hair into a fist. Before he exerted force he whispered a small apology to the aggressive mass under him.

With a quick slam, Loki was out.

“Shit…” Bruce released the tension in his shoulders and the edges of green around his face returned to their regular blush.

“You got that right.” His armed friend chuckled before giving him a pat on the shoulder and lowering his bow.

The two gods were still on the floor, only one conscious. Thor’s sad eyes locked on to his teammates, still grappling with the eventful few minutes he experienced just now. When he took a look towards Bucky he noticed his blank stare, “Are you alright, Barnes?”

At the sound of his name, his pale eyes shot up; he looked like he had just snapped out of his own trance, “Huh?”.

“I asked if you are alright. You look scared or upset.” Clint’s brows furrowed in concern.

“Yeah… I guess I am, I don’t know…” He was murmuring and avoiding eyes, something Bruce and he both recognized but neither wanted to openly discuss their friend’s disordered behaviour.

The golden-headed god still lay under his sibling’s limp body, breathing heavy with the stress of having to knock them unconscious.

“Your name is Barnes? I’m Bruce, Dr. Bruce Banner– as I’m sure you’ve guessed so far.” His short introduction still bolstered with exhausted confidence. With a bit of consideration he stuck his hand out.

“Yep, I’m uh… Bucky.” He finished quickly and took the hand offered, hardly shaking it as much as tremoring. Then he shifted his eyes to Thor; who was currently struggling to stand up, “Do you… need help, uh-Thor?”

“I would appreciate that.” The blond grumbled his words and quickly instructed the other to help stabilize Loki so they could get their unconscious body back into bed. Bucky took their shoulders in his hands and lifted while Thor wrapped his arm around their waist to further lift them up. Very carefully, they take slow steps towards the hospital bed and avoid Bruce fixing the sheets and moving away wires. They slowly lower Loki onto the somewhat stiff mattress before stepping clear of the bed to let Bruce set everything back up.

“I’ll likely be Loki’s main supervisor so you have nothing to worry about, Thor. I’d also like to add, Clint please do refrain from visiting as I think you might be a trigger for their weakened mental state… I’ll have to tell Tony that too…” Bruce began muttering incoherently about what he had to do in the next couple of hours to be fully set-up.

Clint shrugged and left after nodding to the others, trying to communicate a goodbye. Shortly after, Bucky slipped through the door without a word.

The remaining blond stared at his sibling’s limp and bruised body. The red mark on his forehead wasn’t swollen but that doesn’t mean they won’t have to check for internal injuries from the impact, “Will… will they be okay?”

He pushed his glasses up and kept a stern face to prevent his feelings getting in the way, “I’m not sure about Loki’s psychiatric health but it appears that their body is already beginning to heal from whatever trauma has been inflicted.” Thor either didn’t notice or didn’t care that Bruce avoided answering the question.

“Okay.” Not once did his eyes shift from Loki’s gaunt face, “Thank you, Banner.”

The brunette nodded in response and returned to replacing the monitors, reconnecting the IV drip, adding an extra dose of saline and morphine to the IV, reapplying the dropped pulse oximeter, pulling up the bed’s side bars, raising their head via pillows, and finally wrapping their wrists in restrictive cuffs attached to the bed. This way he could insure no self-injury while they weren’t monitored, if even for a moment.

Thor gave a sideways glance at the cuffs but thought better of questioning his friend’s thought process– he was a doctor, after all.

“Is there anything you need, Thor? If not, I need to tend to my other patients.” His other patients consisted of a few injured SHIELD agents and some personal friends or family of the Avengers, AKA nothing he needed to tend to, but instead something to escape to.

“Do you have a library for your medical knowledge?”

Bruce furrowed his brows at that– why would Thor want to learn medicine just for his brother– but took it as a genuine question, “Not in the Avenger’s Tower, however, I can help direct you to the nearest public library or you can ask JARVIS for digital copies of any book you need.”

He almost looked disappointed but shook it off and softly replied, “I’ll ask this JARVIS person later.”

Bruce almost laughed at the thought of Thor trying to figure out JARVIS on his own but also didn’t feel bothered to help him, “Okay, I’ll leave you alone with them, then.”

Watching to make sure he didn’t seem in a hurry, he took long strides out of the room and down the hall towards the main medical station where his nurses were gathered. Considering that he wasn’t informed of Loki’s arrival, it was either their choice or they also weren’t aware, in which case he really needed to up his surveillance.