Prologue-
It was a dark and stormy night. Then again, if the sopping lump in front of me was what it looked like, Thor was going to be pissed. I moved closer and nudged the limp form with a foot. A groan rose to my ears. Oh boy. Yep... Loki, 12:00. Part of me wanted to just leave him there, the part of me that knew exactly who he was and what he had done. The other part of me wanted to help a hurt person, no matter who it was. I was just turning towards my studio when another moan reached me. That's it, I decided. I walk over to him, ignoring the pouring rain and thunder. As I kneel to pick him up, I notice he is now unconscious, which makes some parts of this easier. Gods, how heavy can he be!
When me and my dead weight got back to my place, I rolled him onto the couch and scanned him over. A couple of bruises, scrapes, and tears in his clothes, but nothing that would have knocked him out. My gaze drifted to his side, where his clothing seemed to be darker than it would have been if it was just wet. Damn. A long slash ran from his ribs to just above his hips. No wonder the guy was out. As I rushed to the first-aid kit, I wondered what got him. Surely a sword or dagger wouldn't have been able to graze the great and powerful Loki! Seriously, what kind of person walks out of a portal thingy, and commands everyone around him to kneel? A totalitarian, self-righteous, "You are all of you beneath me!" demigod, apparently.
I made my way back to Loki, having secured the cloths to clean him up, and the bandages. I hoped to whoever was out there to let him stay unconscious while I was cleaning out the gash. Of course, why would fate be kind to me for a moment?
A/N: This is my first attempt at Fan-Fiction, so please keep that in mind when reading. I can't promise regular updates, as I have to focus on other things in my life. I have this story essentially mapped out, I just have to connect all the dots. Please Review! :D
