Hushed silence. All there was, drowning silence, the kind of silence that dominates a movie clip when something's gone terribly wrong. The kind of silence that paralyzes, forces things into slow-motion, drags the scream from your lips before you realize-
there's nothing coming out.

No... No... No!

Three months was all it had taken to fall in love with the Captain. Three months of his strong shoulders, his kind words, his unwavering sense of loyalty and desire. Two months of being chained to the walls of a white-washed room in an abandoned building. One month of roaming his captors' Mansion, the "Avenger's" as they called themselves, of his own free will. He'd been the leader of Nightfrost before his capture, the corrupt force that ran the city after dark, those nightmare men whose face's were hardly seen, whose names' never known. The Avenger's had caught him because of an overconfident mistake, slapped him in iron and tortured him until his maniacal laughter had subsided to dry sobs that rang through the room, and eventually, put him to sleep. Their top gun, Tony Stark, widely renowned in the real world, had surprised Loki with an offer: they would let him go if he changed his ways, take off his bindings and give him a second chance.
He never would have worked so hard to prove himself, if he hadn't met Steve Rogers.

Oh, he'd met Steve on the battlefield a few times before, he'd heard the Captain speak, had fought him and nearly won-
of course, Steve was a hard man to keep on the ground, and Loki could remember the flexibility and agility he'd witnessed before his capture. His flexibility dominated more than just his physical talents.

The day Steve Rogers had come to his cell, Loki had thought much the same of him as he had the red-headed girl. It was the thought of comfort that was supposed to make him talk, was supposed to drag the information from his lips so the Captain could re-read it to his teammates as intel. Well, that wasn't about to happen twice, and he'd sat tight-lipped against a wall, ignoring the hand offered for a shake, the deep, blue eyes and the genuine introduction.
Loki was not about to accept any of it at face value.

The Captain had returned the next day despite his cold first encounter, and, although rather impressed, Loki had mimicked his actions of the day previous. Why in the world would he allow the Captain to appease his aching heart or soothe his mind? Why would Steve Rogers even give him that option?
Fool. No one, not even his right-hand man, knew the secrets of his soul.

A week passed, and that was when it had all changed.

"I'm tired of talking to myself, Loki. I return to you day after day with the intent of friendship, and all you give me is a cold-shoulder. No one else wants anything to do with you, and I'm beginning to wonder why I even bothered, myself."

Loki had turned then, eyeing the Captain. What were these guys, the light at the end of the tunnel? Did they really think they could capture evil and morph it into good? The Avenger's, what were they avenging, anyways? Were they government? This man, the Captain as they called him, although not the big cheese, he was honored, respected, revered. And why?
Because he was so damn good, to the fucking core.

"You must think this is all according to protocol."
Steve's voice faltered and suddenly his back was to the God.

"I'm- I hope you enjoy your stay."

And then he was leaving, and Loki was standing, a worry creasing his forehead, a hand lifting hesitantly.

"Captain?"

Loki didn't know why he called out. He didn't know why he was sitting in this idiotic cell wasting his weeks away when he could be out on the streets, wreaking havoc, having fun, doing things. Why was he so upset that the man was leaving? People walked out on him all the time, back-stabbed, betrayed, violated-
he'd expected nothing more from him.

"Y-yes?" Steve had asked, whirling around, obviously surprised at the vocal contact.

"I... Will you, stay?"

And that was the first day Steve Rogers had smiled at him, all pearly whites and dimples.
And that was the first day that Loki had realized, Steve Rogers was a very attractive man.

Weeks. Weeks of talking, weeks of smiling, weeks of sharing the company of a man meant for changing lives. Loki felt it, he felt the pull, and he couldn't resist- didn't want to resist, because being around Steve Rogers was the first time in his entire life he'd ever felt wanted. He'd grown up with a brother, an older brother with dreams and goals and friends and love-
everything Loki had ever wanted for himself. His memories were filled with an emptiness, with drunken rage, bottles and glass and blood and chaos from a father who'd never wanted him born.

He'd left home at 16, taken in by a man with a Cheshire grin and two malicious, sparkling red eyes.
And from there he'd grown up a lackey, a side-kick, until his mentor had died and he'd risen to power, promising in those last few moments to finish what Laufey had started.
They had been so young, so damn young...

A month had passed before Loki had understood something about himself. He wanted Steve Rogers, he longed for his presence, his contact, his voice, his eyes. Those eyes that sparkled when he laughed, and the more Loki laughed, the more Steve laughed...
Steve visited him daily, and although Loki knew he was reporting to someone, telling them of his own mental progress from the life of a villain to, whatever he was now, he couldn't help but open up to him. It was as though the Captain was the balm he'd always been looking for, and Steve treated him like an equal.

That's all he'd ever wanted. To be someone's equal.

"You know, Captain, I appreciate all of, this."

Loki had motioned with his chin the room around them, but what he really meant had no words to describe it. It was his feelings, his heart, the way he'd suddenly found a reason to wake up in the morning and look forward to the day.

"Steve. It's Steve, Loki. You're welcome of course, you're always welcome."

Loki had shifted his weight, leaning elbows on knees as he sat on the bench, wrists still in cufflinks.

"How... How is it, that after all I've done, after what I've devoted my entire life to, you don't, hate me?"

Captain had shrugged, smiling as if it was the simplest thing in the entire world to understand.
"I've seen battle, I've seen pain, and I've seen evil- but, I've seen more miracles, more good than bad, more change in my lifetime that I just decided I'd never give up on it."

Loki had stared at him then, because that was the first time someone had ever told him they weren't giving up on him.

After that month it was clear sailing. It was as though something had blossomed in his chest, and everytime Steve's face showed up behind that door Loki greeted him with a "hey" and a grin. They shared meals together, stories of strategy, tragedy, stories of their childhoods, stories of their losses-
and then one of those days it dawned on Loki that he'd made more than just a friend.

"Captain-"
"It's Steve."
"-Right, Steve. Why have you spent all of this time with me?"

Steve Rogers had sighed then, leaning back on the floor, hands behind his head. He wore a leather jacket, jeans, the same get-up all the time. It was routine, and Loki had gotten so used to it. No one else visited him, the only time Stark had come in was to hold a gun to his head, and even then the Captain had barged in, lowered the gun and shielded him, standing in front of him like a wall.

"I know you probably don't want to be told you're a statistic, but it's a program we've recently started. You're our first prospect, and I have to say, you turned out pretty well."

Two months was all it had taken to become good. Loki knew it was only because of Steve.

"Prospect? Program? I don't follow..."
"Hank, our senior scientist. He has a vision of peace between our kind and your kind-"

Loki had raised an eyebrow, and Steve backtracked.

"-I mean, those who want to harm, and those who want to help. He wants to figure out a way to infiltrate the leaders of several large crime rings and, to put it simply, help them."

"Surely all they would need to do to achieve such effects is place you in the same room."

Steve laughed then, ducking his head.
"I don't think everyone would agree."

"Then they've never quite felt the healing touch of Steve Rogers, the Captain."

Steve went quiet, just holding Loki's gaze, blue eyes flickering with thought.

"My whole life, I've had no other choice but to watch my own back, peer over my shoulder for the cold glint of a knife, listen for the devastating click of a safety being released against my skull. Yet here, when I'm with you, I feel safe, Captain. I feel safe, and happy, and wanted."

Steve's attention remained his. Solid, real.

"Have you ever felt the piercing betrayal of your own kin, Captain? Have you been held down, tied down against your will, forced into the furthest depths of your mind because it's the only escape from a vicious, soul-twisting pain?"

Loki could feel the memories bubbling to the surface, his father's face, Thor's at the doorway before it vanished, pretending he hadn't seen anything, anything at all...

"Have you ever felt a cigarette burn, Captain? The sharp, fiery snap of veins beneath the gruelingly slow tug of broken aluminum?"

By now his fists were clenched, eyes on the floor-

"Have you ever felt trapped, Captain? Beneath your own misery, beneath the forgotten promises of others, beneath the weight of the world? Because I have, I have known such things my entire life, I have known nothing of caring, nothing of love, nothing of safety my entire li-"

"Loki."

And it was the calm serenity of Steve Roger's voice that caught Loki's own in his throat.

"Loki, you're safe now."

Loki's brows furrowed, he hadn't known he was standing, shoulders heaving with emotion, watery eyes lifting to the blue gaze that was nearing his own.

"I won't let anything like that happen to you again."

And that was the first day Steve wrapped his arms around Loki and held him against his chest.
And that was the first day Loki had ever been told, he was wanted.

"Loki."

Steve Roger's voice was always such a sturdy reminder of Loki's happiness, and the man in shackles stood, eyebrows rising in surprise as Tony Stark stepped into the room first.

"You're free to go."

That was it? Free to go? But... But, now he didn't want to go, he wanted to remain a prisoner forever, because forever with Steve was better than being free, alone.

"I believe you're mistaken, this is my place now. I know of no other way to live my life. How does one live a good life when he has nothing to go back to but darkness?"

Steve exchanged glances with Tony at that point.

"Alright, we'll help you get back on your feet then. Rogers, any ideas?"

"He could join us."

"It's been two months, Steve, he's not exactly the Pastor's son over here. He could be lying for all we know, we could be tracking him down in a week with the same, bloodied shackles he's wearing right n-"

"He could join us."

And Loki guessed it was the finality of Steve's tone that had him sharing a room with the man that very evening.

"You comfortable? I'm sorry, we didn't have any free space, and all I could find was an air mattress..."

Loki laughed, waving a hand dismissively, leaning back on the bed with a comfortable sigh.

"Thank you, Captain. For everything."
He meant everything, for the smiles, for the happiness, for the first friend he'd ever made in his sad, out of order life.

"You're welcome, for everything."

And that was the first night Loki slept peacefully, because Steve Rogers was the first person who'd ever cared about his well-being.

Two months in a cell was all it had taken. The next twenty-three days were filled with so much adventure Loki had barely been able to cope with it all. They took him on training exercises, taught him history and science and how to read the stars- They accepted him as their own after a while, all of them, giving him that one chance he'd needed to prove his worth. He wasn't going back to his old ways, not now, not ever, because Steve Rogers had healed his heart, and he knew that this was love. The Captain was a simple man, straight-forward, intelligent, talented, kind... He wore leather and jeans and he led his team on raids as though he was built to be a soldier. He was stoic and strong and everything Loki had ever dreamed of.

"You know, love is cruel."

"That was very out of the blue."

Loki shrugged, wiping his nose with the back of his hand, looking up at the night sky. He felt like he was standing on the hill as someone else, gazing at the stars as though they were something beautiful. The stars had never been beautiful before.
They'd been a reminder that he was still alive, and that time was running out for his motley crew.

"Have you ever been in love, Captain?"

Steve was sitting cross-legged, shaking his head with a smile.

"I don't know."

"No? Why not?"

"Because I always thought people fell in love after years of being together, after years and months and days of knowing..."

Loki turned to face him, aware that his voice had trailed off.

"But I'm not so sure anymore."

And it was the way that Steve Roger's tilted his head that made Loki kneel before him on one knee, propping his elbow up on the other. Those baby blues, they were so damn truthful-

And that was the first day anyone had told Loki they loved him.
And that was the first day Loki had ever kissed another man.

No.

It had taken three months to fall in love with the Captain.

No.

It had taken two before they'd realized what it was.

No.

But it only took one second, for it all to crash down in tangled waves of agony.
It was that skull-splitting silence that reminded Loki to feel, to open his eyes and ears to the world and just feel...

There he was, hand on his abdomen, blue eyes registering the initial shock, the devastating scream of hurt ringing in his features.

It had taken mere moments for Loki to twirl two guns around the fingers of either hand like he'd been educated to do his entire life, holding them up as he raced through the portal, just allowing that rage to swallow him whole, because this was his fault, all his fault, all his damn fault...

He knew them all by name, by face, by label, by rank. He killed them in that order, a flurry of movement and death and wrath...

"Steve..."

Hank and Bruce were already at his side, the two doctors pressing hands into his stomach, barking orders to the other members. Loki's eyes locked with Banner's before he was released, and he felt as though the world was spinning, as if he was tipping sideways, falling against the floor because he was too weak to do anything else...

He's going to live.
He has to.

And it was hours before Janet found him in the hallway, eyes closed, head tilted back against the wall, the lump in his throat no smaller than it had been before.

"Loki, it's not your fault."

"Not my fault?"

He was angry, snarling, because Janet was far from right.

"You can go see him, he's going to be alright."

But Loki knew that Steve Rogers was not going to be alright, because he'd fallen in love with Loki, and that was a worse calling than anything else imaginable.

"Steve?"

"Loki."

Loki rested a hand on the Captain's cheek, eyebrows furrowed, jaw clenched as he surveyed his misfortune. Steve Rogers had taught him strength. Steve Rogers had taught him change.
Steve Rogers had taught him love.

"I'm fine, Loki. Really, it didn't hit anything vital-"
"I should have gone first."
"Don't be insane, anyone could have taken that bullet. It was just, bad timing."

Loki removed his hand, daring his emotions to stop themselves from tingling against his skin.

"Right, but you would not be hurt if I had not stayed, I saw the way Banner regarded me, he blames me..."
"How was anyone to know they'd come for you? It's not your fault, Loki. It's not."

And although Steve reached up and pulled Loki down by the collar of his dress shirt, although Steve's parted lips invited Loki to complete the embrace, Loki knew that it was.

Loki slipped from the mansion once the Captain had fallen into dreams, because he couldn't bear to hurt the only man who'd ever loved him in his entire life, the only man who'd ever made him feel like he was worth, everything...

Blue eyes locked onto his. "Stay? Of course I'll stay..."

Steve Rogers was a man who had been born to change lives. Steve Rogers was good, and pure, and kind.

"Loki, I want you."

Steve Rogers was a soldier at heart, a man who'd risk his own life to protect those he loved, a man who desired nothing more than the world's happiness.

"Loki..."

Steve Rogers was an angel, and Steve Rogers had calmed Loki's eratic soul.

"Loki, I love you."

And that was the last night Loki stayed in town before he took to the road.

Because Steve Rogers was a miracle,
and Loki had not been born to understand miracles.