This is the first work I have ever posted and I apologize in advance if it's terrible. That being said, I decided to try writing fanfiction for two reasons:1)It's fun, and2)I hope it will help me obtain at least some skills I need for original work, which I'm trying very hard to complete successfully.I write angst and hurt/comfort very well, so there will be quite a bit of that in this work. Not that there won't be fluff too, of course. I don't have an exact plot laid out, so I am very open to all of the suggestions you have. I may not use all of them, but I will try my best.Lastly, I have to give warnings. I tend to get quite descriptive, and when it comes to violence, illness, and such things, that may disturb people. If you can't stomach gorey detail, please don't read my work. Also, in the event that I employ a situation you are uncomfortable with or actions that you are offended by, please don't comment rudely. I try to treat every person and every subject with kindness and respect. Please understand that. Thank you.Also, please note that this same work is posted on the website "Archiveofourown". They saw it first.And now, back to your regularly scheduled program.

He could take it.

The sight was terrifying.

But he could take it.

Thor sat on the sofa, tenderly cradling that long-limbed body in his lap like a child. He was stroking down matted, black curls gently, which blocked any view there was to be had of that bashed, bloody face. The prone figure was wrapped in Thor's once scarlet cape, gone brown with blood. Soft whimpers of pain were muffled against Thor's chest. One pale hand that appeared to have been crushed hung limp over Thor's shoulder.

Bruce and Steve exited the elevator, rolling a stretcher to where Thor sat. Thor did not want to relinquish his hold, but after Bruce explained the benefits of lying straight when most of one's bones are broken, he complied. But when he laid the trembling form on the soft sheet and let go, a screech tore through room. Bony fingers clutched Thor's sleeve weakly, refusing to let loose.

Thor removed the hand with little effort and held it between his own. "It's alright, brother," he said, in a quiet voice unusual for him. "I shall not leave you."

And that was it. He'd tried hard, so hard to not leave the beaten body without an identity. This couldn't be a person. This couldn't be someone heknew.

This couldn't beLoki.

But it was. Loki. God of mischief. Trickster. Silver-tongue.

Strong. Intelligent. Proud.

Broken. Bleeding.

"Brother!"

Having a seizure.

And when Loki's head suddenly turned toward him, one visible eye wide and a trickle of red leaving his lips, Tony Stark could no longer take it.

And no small wonder.

His stomach flipped. He had no choice but to heave. When he finished, he realized that Bruce had sedated Loki. As Steve wheeled the stretcher back to the elevator, Tony- breathless- growled rather than spoke:

"Whoever did this? Yeah, they're gonna die."