Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Marvel-characters!

AN: Thank you so much for your feedback! I'm glad you all liked the previous chapter. I know, what on earth have I done? But here is the next chapter. I hope you will enjoy it. Please let me know what you think! I also want to thank Greenloki for all the help she's given me. Check out her stories; they are glorious!

~ We Might Fall ~

Chapter 4

Waiting was the worst. Seconds turned into minutes and minutes turned into hours, but Thor remained unmoving. He simply sat in an old, worn chair in a too bright hallway. The smell of medicine, blood and disinfectant was everywhere. Nurses passed him. Doctors rushed by. He heard children cry and parents cry even harder, but somehow that didn't faze him. Thor felt as if he was located inside a large bubble, separating him from the rest of the world.

He stared into the distance, his thoughts running wild. He kept feeling Loki's blood spill over his hands. He kept seeing that desperation and fear in his wide, green eyes. It was something that could never be unseen.

The touch of a warm hand on top of his called him out of his own little world and he realized tears were still rolling down his cheeks, but he didn't care. He gazed to his left to find Peggy sitting beside him. He'd forgotten she had come with him to the hospital, but he was glad she was here now. His fingers curled around hers, a warm, comforting gesture, but of course that did nothing to dull the pain and fear he was currently experiencing.

"Can I get you something?" Peggy asked softly. Her brown eyes spoke of nothing but kindness and sympathy. It was something he didn't often see within her. Peggy was – by all means – a hard woman. She could be sweet, yes, and she often smiled, but there was always a sharp edge to her, a shield protecting her. Thor supposed that was normal for a woman making such a career in the military. Or maybe it wasn't. He didn't know.

"I'm fine," he replied. For a moment, he stared at their intertwined hands and realized that this was the first time he touched Peggy in such a way. In all the years he knew her, he had hugged her perhaps two times. He had definitely never held her hand – or in this case, she had definitely never held his.

And then she did something she had not once done before. "He'll be fine." She lied.

"Don't," Thor said and Peggy did as he requested. She didn't say anything else and that was okay. She just sat with him, held his hand, and that was good enough for him. Her presence was good enough for him.

It was well after midnight when a surgeon approached them. "Thor Odinson?" He asked. Thor all but jumped up from his seat, finally letting go of Peggy's hand. The surgeon stayed calm and professional. "We've managed to stabilize your brother," he explained. "But he lost a lot of blood and his condition remains critical. The next forty-eight hours are crucial."

Thor nodded, taking in the information. It wasn't much, but it was enough for now. Loki was alive, he was breathing and his heart was beating, and that was all he needed to know.

"Can I see him?" He asked. He'd stopped crying.

"Only for a few minutes."

~ 0 ~

Walking into intensive care was something Thor had done a dozen times already, but each time he had been here as part of his job. It had been to visit victims of robberies, car accidents, and a few attempted murders. This was the first time – and he sincerely hoped it would be the last time –he was here as family, as someone's brother. He walked through a long, white and mostly abandoned hallway. The surgeon was no longer with him, instead a short, kind looking nurse was escorting him towards Loki's room.

Thor felt surprisingly calm, though with each step he took, he felt his nerves slowly claim him again. It was a mystery how he kept his breathing under control and how his heart was beating steadily within his chest. His mind raced with a hundred different thoughts, though. He was about to see his little brother and he had no idea what to expect. That frightened him more than anything in this world.

"He's right through that door," the nurse said as they were almost at the end of the hallway. Large windows gave the opportunity to look into every room – as to monitor different patients - but Thor didn't have to courage to look at Loki through a window. He felt that would distance himself from his little brother, as if that would make it less real. And it was real. "You can only stay for a few minutes," the nurse continued. "If you need anything, just press the red button above the bed."

Nodding absentmindedly, Thor pushed open the wooden door and entered the little hospital room, his gaze slowly landing on his younger brother. The sight knocked all air from his lungs. He couldn't stay calm anymore, he couldn't even breathe anymore.

Loki lay eerily still in the wide hospital bed, his arms neatly placed beside his body. His eyes were closed, the skin around them grey and blue. There were tubes and wires everywhere and the hospital gown had been pushed down so that they exposed his pale shoulders and granted nurses and doctors better access to all the tubes connected to his body. A thick white bandage had been wrapped around his neck. For a moment, Thor expected to see blood somewhere, but Loki looked sickeningly clean.

What frightened him most of all, however, was seeing the medical ventilator forcing air into Loki's lungs through a plastic endotracheal tube. He couldn't breathe on his own! A long, white plaster running from Loki's one ear to his other kept the tube in place.

And there was noise everywhere; a continuous beeping told Thor that Loki's heart was beating, the ventilator produced a heavy sighing sound each time it pumped oxygen into Loki's lungs, and another machine rattled softly as it monitored his blood-pressure and other vitals.

Thor realized he had been standing still in the doorway for a long time now, staring at the unmoving form of his brother. He forced himself to walk forward, to approach Loki even if the image scared the hell out of him. It was up to him to be strong now.

Carefully, he took hold of Loki's cold hand and squeezed it.

"I'm here," he said softly. He was relieved to hear his voice calm and steady. Could Loki hear him? He somehow doubted it, but he kept talking anyway. "I need you to hang in there, okay? Just rest and take your time, but…hang in there." He felt so incredibly silly. "I still have to call mom and dad," he suddenly realized. "They'll throw a fit, Loki. They'll be so mad. Not with you, of course, but-" He stopped talking, listening to the loud machines instead.

"I'll have to call Jane, too," he said quietly. He really needed her right now. He wanted to feel the softness of her hands in his and hear her comforting voice. She had only met Loki two or three times before, but she would cry anyway when she would her the news and Thor wouldn't mind. He would cry with her.

He swallowed heavily as he felt tears invade his eyes, but he did not allow them to roll down his cheeks. "I'll find that son of a bitch," he promised his little brother. "I swear that he'll pay for this."

And with that, he let go of Loki's hand and walked out of the room. He had work to do.

July 9th, Tuesday

Silent.

That was how Thor currently experienced his surroundings as he stood in the hallway just outside of the intensive care ward. He could no longer hear his mother's muffled sobbing or his father's labored breathing. He could no longer hear half a dozen machines clicking and beeping around him, all monitoring Loki's vitals and keeping him alive. And then there was the worst sound of them all: that sighing sound that confronted Thor again and again with the fact that Loki could still not breathe on his own.

He had watched a madman cut his throat and when Thor closed his eyes – like he did now - he could still see Loki's horrified expression. He could still see the absolute terror that had filled those emerald green eyes that split second before Stark had cut him.

Unable to breathe as panic and nausea overwhelmed him, Thor slid down the wall he had been leaning against, and put his head between his knees. Keep yourself together, he told himself, for mother and father. Tears burned in the corner of his eyes, but he refused to let them escape. Seeing Loki comatose was hard enough for Odin and Frigga. They did not need to see Thor have a mental breakdown.

But Thor found himself crying anyway. He cried because his little brother was in the hospital, because Tony fucking Stark had nearly killed him, because he'd been unable to protect Loki, because…because… He swallowed heavily and squeezed his eyes shut. Pathetic, he scowled at himself, you can't even keep yourself together!

Rushed footsteps sounded nearby suddenly and Thor groaned quietly at the idea of a nurse approaching him, asking him if he was alright. Of course he wasn't alright! When he glanced up, however, ready to spill whatever lie he needed to spill in order to be left alone, he saw her. Her long brown hair was messy and she looked as if she hadn't slept in days, but in that moment, Thor found her to be the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

"Jane," he said, sighing.

She crouched down before him, tears already in her eyes. She lifted her hands to his face, her thumbs gently wiping away the tears that had fallen from his eyes. A second later and without one word, she wrapped her arms around him. In the end, Thor didn't know how long they sat there, holding each other and comforting each other. He just knew that he had longed to feel her soothing embrace and now that he had it, he crumbled.

He pulled her as close as was physically possible and buried his face in the crook of her neck. Even the smell of her hair comforted him, but he could still not stop himself from breaking down. It just needed to get out, because keeping all that fear and terror and desperation inside was slowly killing him.

"I got on the first plane home when I got your call," she told him softly, refusing to let him go for which Thor would be forever grateful. She brushed aside some of his blond hair and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. "I'm so sorry, Thor."

"He looks so…" He couldn't finish his sentence, all the words suddenly disappearing from his mind.

"It's okay," she said. "It's okay, my love, I've got you."

Thor didn't stop crying for a long time.

July 10th, Wednesday

When he arrived at the police station, he felt as if he'd arrived in an ant-nest. There was activity everywhere – people talking, people typing away on their computers, people rushing about, papers in hand – and Thor felt strangely out of place. He used to be part of this activity, but now he had become the outsider, he had become nothing more than family of the victim. For the first time, he knew what it felt like for people to arrive here and see all the officers buzzing about, barely sparing them a glance.

He inhaled sharply, pulling himself together and then pushed his way through his many colleagues. Those that spotted him offered him sympathetic and pitiful glances, but Thor didn't want those. He just made his way to Fury's office, keeping his head down and ignoring all the people around him.

Just as he was about to knock on Fury's closed door, it swung open. Normally, Fury was a very intimidating man, but with everything that had happened recently, Thor found it hard to feel intimidated by anything at this point. He already survived his worst nightmare two nights ago. Hell, it was still going on! Fearing Fury was the least of his concerns.

"Odinson," Fury said, more surprised than he was willing to show. At least he didn't bother with telling Thor how sorry he was. Thor was grateful for that. "What are you doing here?"

"Give me something to do," he said, staring directly into Fury's one good eye. "I know the bastard got away, but he's injured. He couldn't have gotten far. You need all the help you can get, Director."

Fury sighed heavily through his nose as he pressed his lips together. He put a hand on Thor's shoulder – a very uncharacteristic gesture for him – though his gaze never wavered. He never turned sorrowful or vicarious. "Thor," he said, and it might well be the first time he ever used his first name to address him. "Your brother is in the hospital and he needs you more than I do. Go to him."

"He's in a coma," Thor snapped. "He doesn't know if I'm there or not."

Fury arched one eyebrow.

For a moment, Thor felt the instinct to apologize – one just doesn't snap to their boss – but he realized he couldn't care less about courtesy right now. Besides, he hadn't slept in over 48 hours. He wasn't thinking particularly straight.

"I just need…" he began, but he couldn't immediately finish that sentence. Why were there tears in his eyes? God, he hated himself! He rubbed a hand over his face in an effort to pull himself together. He partially succeeded. "I need to keep busy, Director. I'm losing my mind in the hospital. I'm losing my mind each time I glance at my parents and they look broken."

Telling his mother and father what had happened to their youngest son might well be the second hardest thing he'd ever done in his life – the hardest thing being him trying to save Loki's life. They had looked so torn, so sad, so fragile. Frigga had started crying of course and Odin had turned deathly pale. And ever since, they had been at the hospital even though they weren't allowed to sit with him all the time and the doctors urged them to get some rest.

And with Stark still on the loose, two police officers stood outside of Loki's hospital room at all times. It was very intimidated and Thor's parents had trouble dealing with it all. Hell, he had trouble dealing with it all! It wasn't easy to see your son or brother lying in the hospital, fighting for his life, and the two cops stationed outside of the room didn't make matters easier. They somehow kept reminding everyone of the gravity of the situation, of the danger. Frigga in particular could hardly live with the fact that her youngest son might still need protection from a deranged serial killer.

"You've been compromised, Thor," Fury told him, his hand still firmly on Thor's shoulder. "I have no choice but to pull you from the case."

"What?" Thor felt shocked and somehow, betrayed too. "You can't do that!"

"Keep your voice down," Fury ordered.

Thor hadn't even noticed that he'd been shouting. He glanced around and found that a few of his colleagues were staring at him. Thor ignored them and returned his attention to his boss. "I have to help find the son of a bitch," he said, calmly again, though his voice held a sharpness that had never been there before. "Fury, he almost killed my brother. It's a miracle he'll survive."

For the first time, Fury openly showed his sympathies. "I'm sorry, Thor," he said. "For what has happened to your brother. I know you must feel-"

"Don't." Thor swallowed heavily, balling his hands into fists. Just thinking about what Stark had done to Loki made him frightened and furious at the same time. "Don't tell me that you know what I'm feeling," he said stubbornly. "You can't know what I'm feeling, because you never had a brother who was almost murdered. You never had to witness a crazy man slit your brother's throat and you've never felt what it's like to feel your brother's blood flow freely over your hands."

He paused, forcing himself to inhale deeply.

Fury was staring at him.

"He's lost so much blood, Director," he said more calmly. "And he's very weak at the moment." Thinking about all this, telling Fury this, it made it hard for him to restrain his tears, but he somehow managed. "Just give me something to do," he said. "Anything. Have me sort files for all I care!"

Fury shook his head. "I'm sending you on forced leave," he told him. "We have enough manpower to keep the situation under control. We know who we're looking for now and Stark won't be able to hide forever. Go to your brother, Thor."

He said nothing for a long moment, but he knew he couldn't win this battle with his boss. He nodded once and walked away, fully intending to leave the police station, but then his gaze fell on his partner; Steve Rogers. He hadn't seen him since the nightmare had transpired – though he did hear him over the phone a few times. He made his way across the bullpen and when Steve looked at him, Thor smiled sadly.

"I wanted to come to the hospital," Steve began. He stood up from his seat behind his desk when Thor had gotten close enough to hear him. "But I didn't think you'd want to be disturbed."

"It's okay, Steve. Besides, only family is allowed to see him at the moment," Thor explained with a faint smile. "And the doctors and two police officers outside Loki's room are very strict about it. They haven't even let Jane in to see him. Anyway, I rather have you here, trying everything within your power to catch the son of a bitch that did this to my brother."

"Listen, Thor," Steve continued, sounding careful and reluctant. "I'm so sorry I didn't catch him when I had the chance and I-"

Thor would have none of that! Without hesitating, he pulled Steve forward and hugged him. He didn't think he'd ever hugged his colleague and friend before, but it just seemed kinda right. When he released Steve from his tight grip, he kept a hand on his shoulder and stared into his doubtful, sorrowful eyes. "He might have gotten away," he told him. "But he won't get far. If there is one man in this entire force that I believe can catch him, it's you."

Steve smiled weakly. "I won't rest before he's behind bars."

"That's all I need to know."

July 12th, Friday

Tony hissed as he pressed the cold, damp cloth against his wounded shoulder. He'd hoped the coldness would have eased the pain somehow, but he'd never been so wrong before. Still, as he'd taken a shower, the wound had started to bleed again and Tony knew he had to stelp it. He increased the pressure – hoping that would stop the bleeding more quickly - while his one hand desperately clung to the edge of the sink.

At least he'd gotten the bullet out yesterday. He felt like throwing up just remembering that kind of pain.

The small bathroom was sickeningly dirty with blood covering the inside of the shower, covering the tiles of the floor and now staining the sink, too. Thank God Tony didn't faint at the sight of it! But he did feel light in the head. It was hard to focus on anything and the edges of his vision darkened whenever he made too quick movements. This hadn't been part of his plan.

Carefully, he removed the now red cloth and wiped away some of the dried blood around his shoulder, trying to examine the gunshot-wound. It was nearly impossible, however, since he couldn't get a proper look at it due to the angle. He just saw torn skin and a lot of blood while the edges of the wound had turned a dark shade of purple and black. That was not good. Not good at all.

Fuck!

He swayed dangerously to his left and Tony quickly tightened his hold on the sink to find his balance again. His legs felt weak as though his bones were slowly turning into jelly and he wondered if he'd even be able to make it to his bed without falling down or passing out.

He glanced up into the mirror and stared into his own dark eyes. He looked awful; like he'd walked through hell itself and back. His skin had a ghostly pale color, his eyes were sunken and his lips were dry and torn. He was breathing erratically.

Tony couldn't believe where he was either. A fucking motel room! How degrading! He, the great and brilliant Anthony Edward Stark was hiding in a motel room. And all because of those cursed Odinsons. Oh, how he hated them! They had ruined everything and now here Tony stood, broken and defeated and-

No!

He refused to be defeated after everything he'd gone through. He kept staring into his own eyes, telling himself that nothing was lost yet. Only a few days ago, he'd never been so powerful and he'd never felt so good. Holding that knife against the youngest Odinson's throat had made him feel strong and controlling. He'd been in control of life itself! Not just one, but two! But again, those fucking bastards had foiled him. Loki was supposed to be dead and Thor was supposed to have broken down into a million little pieces.

Tony glanced over his injured shoulder into the bedroom where he spotted the newspaper laying on the nightstand. The article on the front page spoke all about how Loki's condition was still critical, but that he was alive. It explained how the police knew exactly who to look for – Stark was the most wanted man in the country right now – and how Thor Odinson and the rest of their family stayed strong.

It couldn't be. It wasn't meant to be.

Why had Loki survived? Was that another sign?

He honestly didn't know. It certainly didn't fit his plan. He'd thought that seeing Loki exit his building all that time ago had been a sign because it couldn't have been a coincidence! Out of all the people in this city, Stane had picked him to work for the company – for Tony's company. Loki, brother of Thor – Thor who had been hunting him down along with his dozen other detective-colleagues.

Why had Loki survived?

Why?

It made no sense! Clenching his teeth together, Tony stared back into the mirror. And suddenly he knew. Oh, it was so obvious. It had been a sign. It hadn't been a coincidence. It was just a mistake and he had to rectify it. Oh, it was all starting to make sense.

He just needed to finish what he'd started.