Set in a pre-Dark World AU where Loki escaped from his cell and took refuge on Earth.

Months had passed since his escape and Loki had taken refuge in Midgard, bouncing from hotel to hotel in an effort to evade Thor and Heimdall. With his magic, he could temporarily shield himself from Heimdall's ever watchful, all-seeing, gaze, but only for limited amounts of time, and thus had to keep moving. All the while, of course, Loki plotted his revenge.

Now one would normally think it impossible for a god to get sick, but the illness Loki caught was far from an ordinary one. At first he refused to admit he was ill, placating himself with false reassurances that it was nothing. But as the days passed and the symptoms worsened, even he could no longer deny it.

"What is wrong with me?" Loki shuddered, wandering the streets of New York City covered in several layers of clothing, it didn't help it was Fall and getting colder. "I'm a god, I don't get sick with mortal illnesses! I haven't been sick since I was a child!"

Passersby couldn't help but stare at the strange pale, black-haired man shivering and wearing several jackets.

"No matter," he muttered, "I will retire to my hotel room just as soon as I purchase some sustenance." Because even gods need to eat.

Loki entered a nearby grocery store, his head throbbing. He walked down a few aisles, perusing the various midgardian goods the store sold, musing how inferior they were to asgardian food. Finally he settled on some apples from the fruits and vegetables section.

"They're no Apples of Idunn, but they'll do."

However, at that moment, Loki felt the overwhelming urge to sneeze and, despite his best efforts, sneezed all over the apples.

"Hey, buddy, mind not spreading your disease to everybody else?!" An irate shopper yelled.

Loki turned to face the man who dare chastise him. He was cold, his head hurt, his throat was sore, and this impertinent mortal was just the last straw. The man was big and hairy, with several tattoos, but Loki didn't care. No mortal could take on a god, and even if he could Loki was too angry to care.

"Watch your tongue, insolent worm!"

"What're you, Shakespeare? Go home before you get us all sick!"

Loki growled, "Fool! Your mother should not have birthed you!"

"That's it, no one insults my mom!" The man charged Loki.

People screamed, running out of the way. Though normally a mortal such as him would be no match for the God of Mischief, in his weakened state, Loki struggled to grapple with him. The man forced Loki into the very apples he sneezed in, striking him across the face. Loki rebutted with a blow of his own, but the blow only managed to temporarily phase the man.

Completely lost in his anger now, the shopper grabbed Loki and threw him against some shelves. Loki kicked him back. The two continued to exchange blows, and before he knew it, the man had thrown Loki out of the store and unto the street, continuing their brawl outside.

Nearby, one of the cashiers made a phone call to the police. Infuriated, tired, and just all around done, Loki finally resorted to using his magic. Up until this point he had tried to avoid using it, so as not to attract attention or worse, the Avengers, to himself, but in this moment he was desperate and his illness made it difficult for him to think straight.

With one blast from his hands, the man was sent flying into the storefront, and Loki took off running. Not far from the scene, Loki could hear police sirens wailing and hastened his pace.

But, ugh, not now! As Loki ran he could feel the weariness of his body slowing taking over him. His limbs felt heavy, he couldn't stop coughing, and the world begun to spin around him.

"N-no…" Loki stuttered, collapsing in the middle of a busy street. Fortunately the police had already cordoned off the area and no cars were coming.

Though he was no longer moving, the world continued to carousel, and Loki pleaded silently for it to stop. His vision faded in and out, and he couldn't stop shivering and coughing. What's worse, in his brawl and subsequent fleeing, Loki hadn't noticed he lost his coats, sending the cold even deeper into his skin.

"M-make it stop…" Loki almost wished he were back in his cell now. He wished Frigga were here to comfort him as she had in the past, in the previous times he had been sick, back when he was a child.

But fate was not done torturing Loki, yet. Just as all this was happening, Loki could make out the silhouette of a figure approaching, a familiar one. Unable to lift his head, he could not really see who it was once they got closer, but he recognized that voice anywhere.

"Brother…?" Thor called tentatively.

Of course it was Thor, of all people, it had to be Thor. Apparently, the Avengers were called.

"Is that… really him?" Clint asked, somewhere out of Loki's line of vision but definitely there as well.

"Yup. What's wrong with him?" Iron man responded.

"B-b-brother…" Loki coughed.

"Loki… what happened to you?" Thor had come ready for a fight, not expecting this.

Loki wheezed, "You will not… apprehend me so easily…" he tried to fire a spell at him but it fizzled and crackled without much effect.

"...Are you sick?" Thor asked, a tone of disbelief in his voice.

"What?! I thought Asgardians couldn't get sick!" Clint yelled.

From Loki's point of view, Thor reached down to put a hand on his forehead.

"D-don't touch me!" he hissed.
"Brother… you are sick." Thor turned to the other Avengers, "Fellow Avengers…"

Suddenly all sounds seemed to fade, and Loki could see his brother's lips moving but could not hear what he was saying. Soon his hearing returned.

No, Loki thought, I'm fainting. I mustn't faint! I must stay awake!

Ahh, but how sweet sleep seemed right now. An escape from all the pain Loki felt, partially from his illness and partially from the fight he had just had. Loki had trouble keeping his eyes open.

Thor turned to Loki, he scooped him up from off the ground, carrying him in his strong arms.

Loki's heart pounded. He was going to be caught! He would be sent back to Asgard! Back to jail! Loki struggled and squirmed fruitlessly.

"N-no…" was all his hoarse throat could force out.

"Shh. Hush now, brother," Thor reassured, "Everything's going to be alright."

Thor wrapped his cape around Loki to keep him warm. It was no use, and Loki knew it. There was no escape, not this time. Oh well… at least he'd see Frigga again, and he could always escape again… probably. Still, he didn't want to go back.

His body gave him no choice though, as he was exceedingly tired and much as he loathed to admit it, the cape did provide some much needed relief as cover and Thor's body heat was somewhat soothing. Loki couldn't help but close his eyes, drifting off into sleep.

When he awoke again, Loki was in a place he did not recognize, at least not immediately. Instead of being in his bed in his cell in Asgard, Loki found himself staring at the ceiling of a strange infirmary. The bed was nice and soft, and the blankets warm, so that was nice. Beside Loki was a bedside table with some hot tea sitting on it. Through the light coming through the windows, Loki could determine it was some time in the afternoon.

At last, someone entered the room. Loki tried to turn to face them, but he was still sore from the fight and not feeling entirely better. He succeeded only in turning his head. Who was his visitor? Of course, it was Thor. Loki looked away, his face red with embarrassment.

"Brother, how are you feeling?"

Loki did not respond.

"Come now, don't be stubborn. We need to know how you're feeling."

Loki sighed, "A-a bit better I suppose… Where are we?"

Thor smiled, "Avengers Tower. We thought it better to bring you back here, since your fever was unusually high. For awhile I was… worried."

"Is that so?" Loki tried to act nonchalant.

"...Indeed. Stark was looked you over, by the way. He says the illness running its course through your system is neither mortal nor Asgardian, but a custom one, intended to do you harm."

"Someone has poisoned me?!" Loki shot up, grimacing as pain reminded him not to sit up too quickly.

Thor gently lowered Loki back down, "Indeed. Have you any idea who might do such a thing?"

Loki shook his head, still bewildered anyone could pull a fast one on him. Him, the God of Mischief!

Thor was silent for a minute before finally speaking again, "Stark said you would be alright. He administered a cure, and now all that's left is for your body to heal itself. Still, he also said if it weren't for us finding you, you would have died."

Loki's eyes widened in both indignation and terror.

"In any case, I'm glad you're feeling better. Let me or JARVIS know if you need anything."

"Why would I let you know?"

"Well, because… I'm staying here."

"Ugh!" Loki groaned. "It's bad enough I had to be saved by the likes of you, but now you won't leave me alone?"

"Loki… I know we haven't always seen eye to eye, but you are still my brother. I want to be there for you. Besides, I must remain to ensure you do not try to escape or in case your condition worsens. Stark said you would most likely be fine, but…"

"I get it," Loki sighed.

An awkward moment of silence passed between the two. Loki reached over and drank some of the tea.

"I hope it isn't too hot. Black Widow said this type of tea was good for sore throats. It isn't Asgardian tea, but…"

Loki blushed, "It's… fine." Then he muttered, "Thank you."

"What?"

"Nevermind."
Thor smirked, knowing full well what Loki had said.

Loki finished the tea and placed it back on the bedside table beside him.

"Are you bored? I can fetch you some books?" Thor asked.

"No, I'm-" suddenly Loki was interrupted by a yawn.

Thor chuckled, "You must be tired. Please, don't mind me. Stark said it was best anyway, if you got plenty of sleep."

Loki wanted to scream, looking so pathetic and vulnerable in front of Thor.

"Please brother… rest," Thor almost pleaded, a look of concern in his eyes. "Stark said you won't get better unless you rest. Don't worry about enemies, I will protect you."

Loki shook his head, but once again tiredness overcame him. Damn these midgardian beds and their blankets! They're so comfortable! To his dismay, Loki found himself unwittingly shutting his eyes. He tried to keep them open, but it was hard. After a few minutes of fluttering, finally he gave up and just let himself be taken by sleep.

It was an exquisite feeling, like he was sinking into the world's softest bed. Well, the infirmary beds were pretty soft, but this felt even softer. A serene darkness enveloped him, as his mind slipped further away from reality and into dreams. He could not help but smile a little, so content was he.

Once Loki was fully asleep, Thor let out a small sigh of relief and then smiled, "Brother, how peaceful you look. If only it could always be like this…" Thor gently brushed some of Loki's hair out of his face, tucking him in.