Doctor Stephen Strange was sitting in a chair in the Sanctum Sanctorum, the rain tapping out a steady rhythm against the glass. He was seated by the fire, a leather bound volume in his lap absorbing all his attention.
He was alone for the night, Wong having left for Kamar- Taj earlier in the day and he wouldn't be back until the next morning. Strange had intended to spend the night off by studying a few texts of interest and then have an early night. He had spent a lot of time the past few weeks dimension hopping and it had left him physically and metaphysically exhausted. The reprieve for the night was welcome and he intended to make the most of it.
Abruptly, he was pulled from his readings by a loud knocking at the door to the sanctum. Doctor Strange looked at the clock which was sitting on a nearby table. It read 8.20pm and he wasn't expecting any visitors. The rain outside made it even less likely that this was a social call. With a small sigh, he stood and made his way to the front door.
When he opened the door, the Cloak wrapped itself more tightly around him at the onslaught of cold air and rain. Then he saw a figure standing on the steps, hair wet and bedraggled in the rain.
"Loki?" He asked, looking at the Asgardian on his doorstep.
"Strange," he said, not quite looking up at the sorcerer.
"What are you doing here?" Strange asked.
"I need a place to stay."
He opened the door wider and ushered the wet god in.
The Cloak, which was usually by Strange's side permanently, rose and wrapped itself around Loki's wet shoulders. They walked into the inner sanctum, to the room where Stephen had previously been reading.
"Would you like a towel, or a warm shower?" Doctor Strange asked after a moment.
Loki blinked a few times, bringing himself back to the present.
"I," he paused. "Yes, that would be appreciated. And some dry clothes?" He asked hopefully.
Stephen looked the god up and down quickly and nodded. They were about the same size.
The Cloak floated off Loki's shoulders and hovered by the fire place to dry as the two made their way towards the bathroom.
About twenty minutes later, Loki reappeared in the warmed room, towel drying his black hair and dressed in a pair of Stephen's track pants and a t-shirt. The man himself was back sitting in his chair, the volume forgotten to a cup of tea in his hands and another on the table beside the other armchair, steam still rising off the surface.
Gratefully, Loki sank into the chair and gripped the cup between his hands. They sat in silence for a bit as Loki stared into the flames.
"Thank you," he said finally.
"You're welcome," Doctor Strange said calmly.
"I had an argument with Thor," Loki began. "It got, rather destructive. And he called me by a title I no longer use."
"So you walked here in the rain?" He raised an eyebrow at the god.
Loki shrugged. "I was feeling claustrophobic and outnumbered. The tower literally says the Avengers, and I am not one."
"Thor made that abundantly clear," he added bitterly.
Doctor Strange nodded contemplatively. "So why come here and not return to Asgard?"
Loki thought about that for a moment. "I'm really not sure. But I feel more comfortable here than anywhere on Asgard, except the library."
Loki ran a hand through his hair, fluffing up the already featherlike strands.
"Alright."
"Alright?" Loki parroted.
"I'm not going to send you back out in this weather, and anything else can wait until morning," Doctor Strange said calmly.
Loki nodded in thanks.
The doctor placed his now empty cup on the table and made to stand.
"If you don't mind, I will show you to a spare room and retire. I was intending to have an early night."
Loki also placed his empty cup down, which Strange then sent to the kitchens.
"My apologies for intruding on your evening. I can see that you are tired," Loki commented.
Without intending, his eyes went to Doctor Strange's hands. Self-consciously, Strange tucked the shaking appendages behind his back. The cold weather in addition to his exhaustion had make them tremble more than usual, and the only way that he had been able to hold his cup steady was with the aid of magic.
Doctor Strange cleared his throat and then made his way out of the room towards the bedrooms. He didn't look back to see if Loki was following, but the faint sound of footsteps echoing his own gave him the answer.
Once the Asgardian was settled in a spare room, with an extra blanket in deference to the weather outside, Doctor Strange drew himself a bath. It hadn't really been in his plans, but since Loki had accidentally drawn attention to his hands he had realised just how much his whole body was cold and aching.
The appearance of the Asgardian at the sanctum had made things interesting. While he had no sworn allegiance to the Avengers, he was responsible for all magical threats to not just New York but the planet at large. A spat between the two gods was not a big deal, but the overreaction of Thor once he realised his brother was missing could cause an incident. He could portal over to the tower and let someone know that Loki was with him at the sanctum, however Thor may demand that his brother return to the tower, which was clearly not what the man wanted. The other option was to do nothing and allow Loki to return tomorrow when the weather had cleared up. But if one of the Avengers realised that he was missing before Loki returned then there may a man hunt on for the god.
Strange sank into the bath, submerging his face and slowly exhaling. The watery silence helped slow his brain and when he ran out of breath he sat back up again. The best answer was to ring the tower, or even Stark's private line, and let them know where Loki was and that he would return tomorrow. With that decided, Strange relaxed until the water started to go cold.
The sun had already risen when Doctor Strange awoke. There was no rain pelting on the window and even the wind had eased while he had been asleep. It was a good day, he was able to dress without too much pain.
As he made his way down stairs, the closed door on a rarely used room reminded Strange of his visitor, and the events of the night before. It seemed that Loki was still sleeping.
Eggs were frying in a pan, when Doctor Strange heard movement behind him. He turned, expecting to see Loki, but instead found Wong staring at him.
"Ah, you've returned from Kamar-Taj," Strange stated, feeling foolish at his words.
Wong nodded and looked at the food frying on the stove.
"Oh, I had a visitor last night. I thought I would make some breakfast, would you like some as well?"
Wong snorted, which Strange thought was a little insulting but before he could comment, Loki appeared from downstairs.
"Good morning. I hope you slept well?" Doctor Strange asked, removing the food from the stove before it got burnt.
"I did, thank you."
Wong looked from the Asgardian to Doctor Strange, and then back again, eyes taking in the track pants and T shirt that Loki was still dressed in from the night before.
Slowly he turned back to Doctor Strange and raised an eyebrow.
"No, not like that!" Doctor Strange defended. "He came in need of assistance last night, and I refused to leave him in the storm."
Loki smothered a smirk when he realised what the other sorcerer was saying.
Wong huffed in response, but he didn't seem too disbelieving.
"Breakfast, anyone?" Strange asked, turning to get plates and hide his slightly red cheeks.
"Thank you," Loki replied at the same time as Wong said "Why not."
After they had eaten, Loki changed back into his dry clothing. Before he left, he found Doctor Strange looking over another text. This time he was seated at a desk in the library, where he could look out over New York. In the distance Avengers tower could be seen, rising above the rest of the buildings around it.
"Ah, Strange," Loki greeted as he walked in. Dressed in his usual leather with his hair slicked back neatly, he seemed vastly different to the bedraggled individual who stood at the door last night.
"Loki," he greeted. "Stark knows that you were here last night, but he said to return whenever you want."
The Asgardian sat down in the library. "That is, interesting to hear. I suppose it is his tower, no matter what my oaf of a brother says."
Doctor Strange hummed in response, eyes flicking back to the book he had open.
"If I may ask, what was your argument about?"
Loki chuckled darkly. "I do not even remember how it began. Most likely something ridiculous, our mother always used to say that we argued over the stupidest things." His eyes darkened momentarily at the memory of Frigga.
"Most siblings do," Strange agreed. "You said something about Thor calling you by a title you no longer use?"
"Ah, yes. They used to call me the God of Lies. Once I found that amusing, but now I find it distasteful. May I ask you, Doctor Strange, what is a lie? Well, a lie is a story told. That's all. And we can rewrite our stories. Write our own happy endings or redefinitions. You know this better than most. We don't have to be what we're told to be. Even by ourselves. I chose to be something new. I have changed. I am not the God of Lies, I'm the God of Stories."
Doctor Strange thought on that for a moment. Loki was entirely correct, and Strange did indeed know that very well. After his accident he rewrote how he saw himself, and wrote a happy ending that should not have been possible for him.
"You have a very good point. I'm guessing that Thor did not want to acknowledge your new title?"
"For a supposedly supportive brother, he can be rather stubborn and hard headed," Loki confirmed with a shake of his head.
The fell into silence for a few minutes before Doctor Strange spoke up. "You are a different person to who you once were. You are indeed the God of Stories, Loki."
The Asgardian looked up, slightly surprised at the confirmation, before relaxing his expression into a smile.
Loki left at some point mid-afternoon, while Doctor Strange was still absorbed in his reading. As the sky was darkening, Strange closed his book and wandered into the kitchen in search of a cup of tea. Sitting in the centre of the bare kitchen table was a box. Cautiously, Doctor Strange approached it. It was a box of tea, green tea and jasmine to be exact. It was a blend that Strange enjoyed after dinner. Beside the box was a note. It was handwritten, but not a script that he recognised. It simply read 'To replace that which I drank.' Even though it wasn't signed, he knew who it had left it. And he knew the unspoken message that it presented.