(Author's Note: This story was originally supposed to be a one-shot, but due to touching, positive response from both friends and readers, I have decided to make this into a full-length fanfiction. Special thanks to Ana, Jess, Ashley, and Zannah for all your help and support!)

My dreams that night were not pleasant ones. I tossed and turned on the small bed as images of beasts with no name tearing into my flesh flooded my ill, exhausted mind. One of them leaned in, grabbing me by the front of my head, snarling viciously. My eyes snapped open and I jerked back. Looking around, I saw there were no monsters. I was in that abandoned room, and that boy from the night before had been touching my forehead. "What are you doing?" I demanded.

The boy had flinched a bit when I jerked away and shouted at him, but he didn't look upset and seemed to take the whole thing in stride. "Checking your temperature." He replied with a simple shrug. "You still have a fever, but It doesn't seem to be as bad as it was before."

He walked over to the heater and stirred something in a small cooking pot that he had set on top. "I was sort of worried that you wouldn't make it through the night, but I couldn't exactly take you to the hospital. Everybody knows what you look like."

For some reason, even though I didn't remember why, this didn't surprise me. My ego may not have been as inflated as my brother's, but it was still there. If I were to try a hostile takeover of the human world, I'd want an audience for it. Keeping a low profile wasn't exactly my style. "It would seem I've found myself in your debt then." The words had a foul taste.

The boy shrugged. "Don't worry about it. Like I said last night, I couldn't just leave you there. It wouldn't be right." He emptied the contents of the pot into a bowl and handed it to me along with a spoon. I stared at it, as it looked utterly unappetizing. It was a thick, grayish mush with little orange chunks it it. It had a pleasant smell though. Like some kind of fruit.

"Peach oatmeal." The the boy explained. "We didn't have anything else, or I would have brought you maple. Grownups like maple more than peach most of the time."

I looked at him, then took a bite. It was very sweet, and tasted much better than it looked. I sighed and looked back up at him. "Listen, boy..."
"Blake." He corrected without hesitation. Audacious indeed. "My name is Blake. And if it's all the same to you, that's what I'd like to be called."

I stared at him. If what was said about what'd I'd done was true, a few months ago I wouldn't have hesitated to kill this boy where he stood. But I sighed and continued. "Blake, then. I hate to admit it, but you have done me a great service, and were it still in my power to do so, I would reward you for your actions. However I cannot help but wonder. I know you said you helped me out of understanding, but you can't possibly begin to comprehend this." He was a human child after all, and even adult humans were stupid, base animals.

Blake shrugged, as if uninterested. "No. I can't comprehend all of it. I mean I have no idea how you ended up here after you kinda sorta decided to free an army of aliens on New York City and kill a whole bunch of people. Yeah, I don't get that part."

"If you know I did all those things, then why aren't you afraid of me? You speak to me as if I were another human, without fear or reverence." This was something I truly wanted to know. This boy may be a stupid human, but he had nerves I have seldom seen before.

"I am. Afraid I mean." He replied. "I mean, you're Loki. If you wanted to, you could probably squish me like a bug right here. But fear isn't something you should waste your time on, especially when someone needs your help. Bad things happen every day, and there's nothing we can do about it. So why worry?"

His answer was simple, yet spoke volumes. I chuckled, but my laughter cost me and I began to cough painfully. Damn this mortal body and all it's weaknesses.

Once the fit had subsided a little, Blake was in front of me again. Holding out two small capsules and a bottle of water. "Take these. They'll knock your fever down a bit."

I looked at the little pills for a moment, my trickster's mind at once thinking 'poison'. But if this child had wanted me dead, he would only have had to left me where he found me and allow the elements to end me. So I put them in my mouth and swallowed them, triggering another coughing fit. The boy pointed at the bottle in my other hand and I gulped down several mouthfuls. It helped a great deal, and I let out a sigh when I had downed half of the bottle.

The boy was unloading a basket from the back of a contraption I recognized. I believe it was called a bicycle. Clever little contraption. Not as fast as a horse, but you didn't have to feed it or bathe it. He set the basket down and emptied it. "I've got some Ramen, some Easy Mac, some more oatmeal, a couple Luncables, some cans of soup. All really easy stuff. I dunno if you've ever seen any of it before, but the directions are on the packets and they're super simple. There's only one cooking pot, so you'll have to rinse it after each use. The water still works and there's a bathroom in the back, but all the water's cold, so don't take a shower until you're feeling better. There's some more kerosene for the heater in the back of the room too."

Blake walked over to where he'd motioned and brought over a large red container with a yellow spout and poured into a small opening at the base of the heater. I watched him with mild interest, as I had never used any of this equipment before and would need to know how in order to keep myself warm at night. Not that I intended to stay in this little shack forever.

"I also brought some stuff incase you get bored." He pulled out several very thin books, a few thicker ones, a newspaper, and a little box. The boy flipped a switch on the box and at once, a slightly grating sort of music began to emanate from it. "Ever see a radio before?" He asked.

I shook my head. "Not that I remember."

"Okay. This dial changes the station. Just scroll through until you find some music that you like. This one changes how loud it is."

I nodded absently. It was embarrassing to have to be told how to do something by a human boy. I probably would have been able to figure it all out myself if my head didn't feel so fuzzy. Instead I bent down and picked up one of the thin books. It had a brightly colored illustration on the front and a title that read "Captain America." I recognized that one at once and looked at the boy. "Is this some kind of a joke?"

Blake looked surprised at my reaction, then saw what I was holding. He snatched it away quickly, not meeting my eyes. "Sorry. That comic wasn't supposed to go in there. I just kinda grabbed a whole bunch and headed out."

He looked so sheepish and remorseful that I almost felt guilty for snapping at him. But now wasn't the time to feel guilt. I cleared my throat, trying to bury the emotion. "Just don't let it happen again." I picked up the remaining books, 'comics' and looked at each in turn. Spiderman, X-Men, The Punisher, Blade. All were by someone called Marvel. The last one I picked up was called The Walking Dead, and seemed to be the only one in the stack not written by this Marvel person. There were also three regular-looking books, but all had unfamiliar titles. The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, The Lord of the Rings, and the Hunger Games.

When I looked up again, not sure if I was going to thank the boy or just look at him, Blake was putting on a backpack and getting on his bicycle. "Where are you going?" I asked.

"Back to the home." He replied. "Nobody was up when I left, but they will be soon. I'll be in huge trouble if I'm not in bed when they come to wake us. I'll come and see how you're doing later today. Just make sure you eat and take those pills again in a few hours. Oh, and drink lots of water."

Then he was gone. I was a little perplexed by what he meant by 'the home'. Was it his home or wasn't it? Why would he say 'the' before speaking about it. I was here on Earth now with no company save that of a strange human boy with empty eyes. The boy was quiet and didn't ask questions. Something I should have been glad for, but at the same time it was disconcerting. Human children were reputed to by wild and hyper and to never shut up. What cruelties had this child experienced to turn him into the exact opposite?

But best not to dwell on it for now. I picked up that Hunger Games book and read for a while, but halfway through chapter two, I found myself thinking of my brother. The main character's little sister had just been chosen to go to the capitol and fight to the death, but the main character had volunteered to take her place.

There was a time when Thor would have done that for me without hesitation. But would he still, given all I had done? I suspect not. I'm not exactly someone worth saving anymore. Besides, odds are if our places were exchanged, I wouldn't have volunteered to save him. I was never the brave or chivalrous one. That was all him. Everything was him. I found myself wondering how he was, and if he still cared for me on some level, but I wouldn't get my hopes up. Even if he did, he'd severed any ties to me. Besides, I'm not his brother anyway. I'm just an adopted Frost Giant, taken from my home as an infant to use as a bargaining chip.

I threw the book across the room with a furious cry, but it was about all the energy I had. I fell back down to the bed and curled into a tight ball. To my own self-disgust, I was weeping. I missed my brother. I missed mother and father. I missed my friends. I missed having a family. Except that I never had a family. Not a real family. So I missed something I never had to begin with...

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