Three months, 5 days, 2 hours ago, Captain America and Ironman, aka, Steve Rogers and Tony Stark, went missing while on a mission for S.H.I.E.L.D, leaving their 5 year old son, Peter, in the care of the Avengers...But by some unusual twist of plot, the child was left under the watch of Loki Laufeyson. That's right. Loki.

Of course, it wasn't as utterly foolish as it sounded. Loki was already the father of three- they were a horse, a snake and a half-corpse, albeit, but he was still a parent. Though, there was no real choice in the matter. Pepper was away, and had been away, for several weeks trying to resolve the issue of what would happen to Stark Industries if Tony was not found. The Avengers had a new villain to take care of, and couldn't under any circumstances bring young Peter. Darcy and Jane had fought to accompany them, and Eric, of course, had work. Which left no other candidates for babysitting other than Loki and Jarvis. This was going to be an interesting few weeks.

So there they were- Peter stood in front of Loki, his shoulders slumped, mop of brown hair a complete mess. The kid hadn't been the same since his dads had gone missing. Loki could kind of relate to how he was feeling... After he found out his life had been a complete lie, he fell apart for a few days, especially after Odin fell ill. Of course, that was back in Asgard. Here in Midgard, there were much better ways to put up with stress, anxiety, and depression. For example, what Loki usually fell back on when he was feeling crappy (90% of the time). Ice Cream and television.

"Peter Parker," the god spoke, leaning down. Peter looked up dully, ever-present look of despair clear on his countenance.

"Why do you have to look after me?" he asked sulkily. Loki grimaced. This is why he hated kids most of the time.

"Everyone else has business they must attend to."

"So I'm stuck with you...Crazy Uncle Loki." he grumbled. Ok, Loki. Breathe...don't strangle him. He had been promised by the Avengers team that if he hurt a hair in Peter's head, he would be killed in the most painful ways possible. Natasha was quite the mother hen when she wanted to be.

"Crazy? I prefer...high-functioning sociopath."

"What does sociopath mean?"

"...Why don't you go watch the television, Peter?"

"Okay." came the dull reply.

Loki watched the boy as he munched on Cheez-It's and sipped juice on one of the many large couches in the media room. Curious, he thought, how very similar the look of hopelessness on Peter's face was to his own in childhood. He felt a pang of pity for the child. It was like watching himself...

Later that night, Loki was putting Peter to bed. He had been given strict instructions from Natasha to make sure that he went to bed at exactly 8. Loki would have to read to him until 8:30, whereupon he would tuck the boy in, and turn out the light. It was routine.

He hurried Peter up the stairs, following reluctantly. The child had just finished his bath, and was now clad in dinosaur pajamas. He climbed into his bed, pulling his quilts around him. They were a gift from Natasha, who had gotten them while visiting her homeland of Russia.

Peter looked at Loki expectantly as he took a seat in the chair by the bed. Loki gave him a mildly irritated look.

"What do you wish for me to read to you, child?" he asked in a bored tone.

"Uncle Clint finished Harry Potter last night...I don't have a book..."

Loki rolled his eyes, then looked down at the small bookcase by his feet. Looking through, he pulled out a thin volume.

"Winnie The Pooh?"

Peter shook his head.

"That's for little kids."

"You are little."

"No I'm not!" Peter protested. Loki glared, his patience waring thin. He had never really liked humans, much less little ones. He stood.

"Fine, read to yourself, Peter." he began to head towards the door.

"Wait!"

Loki turned.

"What?"

"...Tell me a story about that Asgard place."

This piqued Loki's interest.

"Very well..." he sat back down, crossing his legs, making himself comfortable. "There was once a mighty, brave king in Asgard. He was well-liked by his people.

This king had two sons- one was brave and arrogant, the other was quieter and intelligent. Both were eager to please their father, so that one day, they may become the king of Asgard. They cared for each other, but they both knew that one day, only one could take the throne.

There was a problem. The older brother, who was brave and strong was the golden child of the family; He could do nothing wrong. All of Asgard adored this boy, and thought him a huge success. But the younger brother...a magician, could do nothing but wrong. He was very different from his brother, and as time passed, he grew increasingly jealous. This brother believed that the elder was looking down on him, trampling his faith in ever becoming king himself...

Finally, the day came when his father had decided to crown the older brother king of Asgard...leaving the younger feeling defeated. All he wanted to prove that he was his brother's equal..." Loki trailed off, eyes glazing. The wound had healed, but the scar was still there. He still resented Thor. When a few minutes had passed in silence, Peter said quietly, "What happened then...?"

Loki snapped out of his thoughts, then smiled ruefully. "The younger brother found his family had lied to him. He wasn't even related to any of them. He was a half-rate adopted child of a frost giant, who fell into the depths of despair and revolted against them...which landed him far, far away. There, he let his wounds heal, and became a stronger person that way."

"Poor him..." said Peter sleepily. He was beginning to drift off.

"Indeed." Loki said quietly. He stood, pulling Peter's blankets up, then heading to the door, flipping off the lights.

"G'night, Uncle Loki..." mumbled the child. Loki turned to the boy, a smile lingering on pale lips.

"Goodnight, Peter." he shut the door, feeling like a tremendous weight had been lifted from his chest just then. What was this feeling...? Loki had no idea. He wasn't sure if he liked the feeling or not, however good it felt.

The god headed for his room just down the hall, slipping off the green v-neck and jeans he had been wearing, then proceeded to put on his dark green pajama set. He sighed, combing out his hair and allowing to fall how it would. Loki clapped, and the lights flickered off. He pressed a button on his stereo system, which then began to softly play his favorite classical. Smiling a bit to himself, he closed his eyes and began to drift off...

He awakened some time later to a sniffling noise, and a much warmer bed. What the...? Loki groaned, opening his eyes as a thunderous boom shook the windows. Beside him, Peter's tiny form was curled up, latched onto the god's lithe body. A tiny sniffling sound could faintly be heard despite the deafening sound of rain pelting the windows of Stark Tower. Sighing, Loki looked down beside him. "Peter...?" he groaned crankily, pulling back the blankets a bit. "What in the Nine Realms are you doing in my bed?" The God of Mischief was NOT pleased that his beauty rest was being disturbed.

"I'm sorry..." came a mumbled response as a particularly large lightening bolt streaked across the sky. A thunderstorm...Loki was not very fond of them, though not afraid. He simply didn't like the god associated with them. However, this was not one of his brother's storms. It lacked a certain, implacable quality that usually went with Thor's.

"You are scared of a little storm?" asked Loki, arching a perfect eyebrow.

"N-n-no I'm not..." mumbled the child as he clung to his adoptive uncle's shirt. The man sighed a bit, then hesitantly stroked the boy's hair. Peter clung to him, burying his face in his chest. Loki stiffened, unmoving for a few moments before wrapping his arms around his...nephew. Yes, his nephew.

'Dear gods,' he thought. 'Am I beginning to be attached?'

The child cuddled up to him, and smiled. "Thank you, Uncle Loki."

"Ah...you're...welcome."

After a while, Peter had drifted to sleep in his arms. Loki glanced down, feeling a smile tugging at his lips.

"Goodnight once again, young Peter."