Sorry for the wait, I've been busy and also started writing another story... *nervous laughter*
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The contest had begun again. They'd only had half an hours reprieve after mixing their batter, and Loki had decided to spend it in comfortable silence, not wishing to talk. His back was throbbing, yes, but for now he truly did feel better than he had in a long, long while. He'd rebuked Thor's few attempts at conversation gently, reminding him he had to conserve his strength. After his long span of unconsciousness… He could spare a bit of magic for a few illusions. Over the years, he had practised illusions so many times that they had become natural to his magic, and the effort required was very little. Especially compared to healing himself, something he hadn't done very often. So, he sat, and rested, for the few minutes before finally, finally, Fury announced the contest was beginning again and once more, the room erupted into chaos. Loki knew he had to preserve his energy carefully – so springing up, he started with no illusion except a few lumps in the batter (which really was smoother than Njord's toes). Thor was standing to the side, looking threateningly at anyone who dared to approach. Loki sent up an illusion of a hiss and a cloud of black smoke as he poured the mixture carefully in the pan, and he noted Black Widow quickly averting her eyes. Good. Iron Man was still watching – Black Widow and Barton were now looking over at Captain America, hatching some sort of plan. Banner was furiously mixing his batter, and eventually called on Iron Man to help him. Loki watched Stark turn away, then drew up and illusion and executed a perfect pancake flip. It already smelled wonderful. He steeled himself, then drew up a small illusion bubble around himself and Thor. With some effort, he created the illusion of what the other avengers would expect to see – a burning pancake and two quarrelling gods. Within their bubble, Thor and Loki could speak without being over heard.
Immediately, Thor moved over to his side. "What must I do?" He asked in his deep tones, and Loki took a few seconds to recover himself from the sudden pull on his magic. "I… Yes," he muttered, remembering what they had to do. "Remember mother's jam?" Thor's eyes widened and he gasped. "Of course I do! I remember demanding lessons on making it, before Odin found out and told me only girls could cook…" Loki snorted. "Yes, he told me only girls should be healers, and look what good that's done." Thor rolled his eyes, and Loki continued talking. "But you remember how to make it?" Thor frowned. "I… Of course! Yes!" Thor's eyes lit up as he remembered the recipe and began searching through his cupboard – probably managing to find everything on the ingredients list, judging by his happy grunting. "I'll take care of the pancakes," Loki told him, already pouring a second scoop of batter into the pan. It hissed slightly. Loki frowned and lowered the temperature whilst using his other hand to spread the batter evenly around. He had the distinctly uncomfortable feeling that he would be terrified of fire for the rest of his miserable life – not so good when his brother was the god of lightning. But the memories of brands on his back never did quite die down. He distracted himself with a pancake flip, then moved aside as Thor plunked a pan next to him on the hob. In the illusion, Thor and Loki glared at each other before both reaching for the batter and almost knocking it over, slapping each other away as they fought to be the first. Watching them, Iron Man raised an eyebrow then turned away. Inside the bubble, they shared easily, and Loki found within himself an odd submissiveness – the strange cruelty and hate Thanos and the Other had imposed on him slowly washing away. But… There wasn't much Loki left. They'd whipped away so much of him… Loki didn't realise his hand was shaking, the pancake near forgotten, until Thor gently removed the pan from his hand and carefully slid it onto the plate. He didn't say a word.
"You've learned tact, brother," Loki eventually breathed, somewhat shakily. Thor smiled tightly and shrugged. "Perhaps," he said, and Loki sighed. Thor seemed to wish to continue his silence, but stared at Loki in such a way as to make him feel he had to tell Thor something. "It's too much," he said finally, gesturing tiredly at his head, at his broken mind. "It's too much." Thor crossed over to him and enveloped him in a brotherly embrace, patting his back in a way which said, 'I know, my brother. I know. I am here.' Loki shuddered and blinked furiously. "Come on, Thor. We must finish the jam and the pancakes." Thor let him go somewhat reluctantly, and began mixing together the ingredients. After that, time seemed to blur for Loki. His back became a red throbbing line in his vision, and though his hands carried out practiced, measured movements, he scarcely knew what he was doing and relied more on muscle memory than anything conscious. Perhaps an hour had elapsed since they had begun again by the time he had a nice pile of pancakes. Thor was stirring the jam – it was almost ready. He added a generous sprinkle of sugar and stirred. Loki raised an eyebrow slightly. "You have hidden skills, brother," he told Thor, sniffing the aroma of fresh fruits and sweet jam. Thor beamed. "I may not be able to cook these flat Midgardian pancakes, but I think you will find I make an excellent Asgardian jam!" Loki inclined his head, agreeing with Thor, and struggling not to smile. His back gave a painful throb and he winced.
"When will we be done, Loki?" Thor asked, concern visible on his face, and clearly wishing to tell Loki to rest. He fought off – with some difficulty – the urge to hide himself from Thor and proclaim himself fine. He would be honest with his brother in these matters, he decided quietly. He did not want to lose Thor again – it had been bad enough believing that Thor hated him for attacking Midgard. Worse knowing that he could never explain why… Though now he'd told him, and his brother didn't hate him. Perhaps he never had. He shook himself from his thoughts and told Thor, "The jam must be hot and the pancakes cold. In perhaps ten minutes we can prepare the plate – and then I presume we can call Fury to try them?" Thor nodded. "Very well. And after that, I believe we will have perhaps five hours to disrupt the pancake making of the others." Loki grinned. "Indeed, brother. Our disguise is holding up well – the others suspect nothing." Thor smirked. "Now I see why it takes so long – if we had not the illusion, we would barely have made the batter!" Loki nodded. "Indeed. Now keep stirring, Thor, so we don't need to make the jam a second time." Thor looked at the pan in alarm and began stirring it. Loki rolled his eyes, then headed to the table and sat down, half-closing his eyes. He concentrated on his illusion – then to his alarm noted Iron Man approaching them. Thor noticed too, but kept on stirring. Loki got up hurriedly and let the illusion of himself wash over him, approaching Stark. "Hello, Stark," he said politely, stepping outside the bubble so as to prevent Stark entering. "Hi," smirked Stark. "Not going so well, is it?" Loki pursed his lips and shrugged. "What can you expect, working with that oaf?" he retorted, jerking a thumb back at Thor. Then, somewhat suspiciously, "Why are you here?"
Stark snorted. "Not to steal your batter, if that's what you're wondering. It looks like cat sick." Loki looked around at it. From here, it looked lumpy and slightly discoloured. He wrinkled his nose. "I suppose second place will go to Black Widow, after all," he sighed. Stark smirked, and Loki couldn't help a quick, catlike grin in response, seemingly slightly abashed at the state of their batter. The illusionary Thor cursed loudly as the pancake stuck to the pan yet again, then looked up and glared at Stark. Stark lifted his hands into the air and chuckled. "Good luck, reindeer games," he snorted, and left. Loki gazed curiously after him then returned into the bubble. "What was that about?" Thor asked in a low voice. Loki shrugged. "Who knows," he said drily, sitting back down and fully closing his eyes, concentrating on the illusion. He could get perhaps another hour, two, out of his illusion, possibly even three if he was careful. It was enough time – the Avengers saw what they wanted to see, and they would look no further than that. Except perhaps Stark and Barton – though the latter, he suspected, didn't particularly want to come anywhere near him, and would likely stay silent about the illusion. Stark was just… Odd. A genius, no doubt, but rather eccentric. Loki meditated on it for a while, then his mind moved to the pain in his back, beginning to suffocate him. He felt a curious heat from it, and began to suspect one or more of the wounds were infected. If he was right, he would have a fever within hours. Loki hoped he wasn't right, but he didn't dare remove the illusion so as to ease the swelling a little. He growled silently to himself. The moment he stopped using his magic to hold his wounds together, they became infected. Curse Odin for never letting him become a healer – at least Frigga had insisted he know how to heal basic wounds.
"Loki?" he heard Thor say after a while. He opened his eyes with difficulty, keeping a tight hold on the illusion, and gave a small 'Hm?' Thor helped him stand up, and Loki realised he'd misjudged – yet again – how weak he was. The world seemed to spin around him for a few seconds, before he recovered himself. "I gave the jam half an hour, I think it is about right now," Thor told him carefully. Loki limped over to the oven and prodded the jam – which smelled perfectly. "You are limping," Thor pointed out, sounding vaguely surprised. Loki shrugged. "You weren't before," Thor told him, almost suspiciously. Loki felt himself redden slightly. He'd been hiding the limp, and had quite forgotten to do so. "Um," he muttered uncomfortably. Thor sighed deeply.
"You were hiding it," he stated flatly. Loki reddened even more, and smiled sheepishly. Thor gave him a deadpan glare, and he turned quickly to the jam and took it off the heat. Thor came up behind him and grabbed the pan. "Where do you want it?" he asked in a frosty tone, though not without a touch of concern. Loki crossed to the pancakes, hiding the limp properly this time, and Thor almost yelled at him, "By Odin's eistna, Loki! Stop it!" Loki guiltily scurried over to the pancakes, fighting the strong urge to hide the limp, and spread the pancakes out. "A dollop in the centre of each," he muttered quietly, and watched Thor spoon the jam carefully in. As soon as he had finished, and set the pan to the side, Loki began wrapping the pancakes up. "Cream, blueberries, strawberries, that maple syrup thing," he instructed Thor, and his brother obediently went over to the cupboard and brought back the items. "Put the blueberries – carefully – into quarters. Put them in that bowl," Loki told him, pointing to a small bowl on the side. Thor nodded and took a knife.
He folded the pancakes into small packets, and sprayed the whipped cream in a semi-circle around the back of each small packet, covering half of the top and leaving the rest peeking out. He took the strawberries, and upon realising they were unwashed, straightened up. Almost immediately, the dizziness returned and he held grimly onto the counter until the world stopped spinning. Thor, he saw, was furiously cutting the blueberries. He put the strawberries in a sieve and carefully crossed over to the sink, washing them deftly, and plunked them next to Thor just as he finished cutting the blueberries. He waited until his brother scooped up the quarters and dunked them into a bowl, then picked up the bowl and near slammed it on the table. Loki winced. "Strawberries in halves," he told Thor quickly, and remembered not to hide his limp as he walked back to the table. Gods, his back. He was getting more and more sure of an infection, something which dismayed him greatly, but the carried on, carefully arranging the blueberries in the cream and putting one or two strawberry halves on the top of each packet as Thor cut them. He drizzled half of the packets with the Midgardian syrup, and then said quietly, "Done," before near collapsing into a chair. "I'll pull the illusion so it's just around the table, pancakes, and the worktop. You can call Fury." Thor gave him a look and Loki looked down, brow furrowed, folding his hands neatly into his lap as he pulled back the illusion. He sighed deeply as the pull on his magic lessened, and Thor waved up at the railings around the room.
An agent, noticing them, called Fury over and the director peeked over the edge. "Thor?" he called out, and his brother gestured to what was apparently a slightly – slightly – charred pile of pancakes on their plate, with a dollop of cream and some rather disgusting looking strawberries. "You may as well judge it now," Loki called up, managing to sound disgusted by his own work. "It can't get much worse." Thor glared at him and Fury, sighing, descended the metal stairs. Loki looked up and saw Black Widow sniggering at the look on Fury's face, and at their pancakes. Barton, behind her, looked curiously at their table, as if trying to pierce the illusion.
"Well, let's see," sighed Fury, approaching with a look of utter distaste. Just as he reached the table, Loki smirked and Fury looked up, eyes widening as he realised what had probably happened, and Loki drew back the illusion. Black Widow's laughter stopped, and Barton chuckled. "Knew it," Loki heard Stark hiss, and over on the other side of the room, Captain raised an eyebrow. Their pancakes, each beautifully made and perfectly cooked and decorated, looked delectable. "Ta-da," Loki said triumphantly. Fury took in a deep breath. "Well," he said slowly. "I'm impressed." Thor grinned, though it looked slightly forced. "Try them," he told Fury. Fury did, and made a soft exclamation as the sweet jam spilled out of the middle. Loki turned his gaze to Thor, watching his brother grin as Fury sampled the jam and found it to his liking. Loki didn't give any sign that the beginning of a headache was forming, and it was promising to turn into a nice big killer of a headache. He did shiver quite suddenly, and then decided that he was in fact beginning a fever, and judging by the seemingly never-ending throbbing, the wounds were infected.
Fury ate three of the little packets, gazing somewhat mournfully at the rest of the pancakes as he told Thor they could eat the rest. Then, "That was a nice trick, with the illusion. I suppose that's how you finished so quickly?" Thor nodded in response. "Loki/" Fury asked him, and he looked up. "Yes, Director?" Fury scowled at him slightly, in much the manner he scowled at all his agents. "Does holding an illusion take effort?" Loki blinked. Apparently Thor had not instructed Fury about how magic worked. Loki opened his mouth to say 'no', and began to shake his head, before seeing Thor's expression and nodding. "Of course, it is not without a price. It drains my energy and physical labour might, though when I am at full strength it is much less… Strenuous." Fury frowned. "I don't think…" Then he shook his head and sighed. "Never mind. You look ill." Loki blinked and just stopped himself from throwing up an illusion to mask himself. He looked briefly at Thor, standing with his arms crossed. "I… Hm. I believe that…" He glanced nervously at Thor, then said in a low voice, "I believe one of more of may wounds may have been… Um… Infected." He glanced guiltily at the floor. "What," Thor stated flatly, glaring daggers at Loki. He felt his face grow hot as his brother glared at him, and he shrugged uncomfortably. "Just a… Suspicion," he said. "And how long have you had this suspicion for?" Fury asked. Loki thought. "About an hour?" he asked. "And you didn't think it was important?" Fury asked incredulously. "Sorry," was all Loki could think of.
Fury sighed deeply and pinched the bridge of his nose. "All right. Thor, take him to the bathroom and get the bandages off. I'll get Stark and Banner to take a look, and warn the others to leave their stuff alone." Thor nodded grimly, and all but dragged Loki to the bathroom, probably not quite realising how near to unconsciousness the latter was. Thor didn't say a word as he pushed Loki into the small room and sat him down, taking his shirt off roughly and practically tearing the bandages away. "Thor!" Loki gasped, his world exploding into stars, as the bandages tore away the scabs and blood began flowing again. He clutched wildly at his brother as tears began streaming down his face at the sudden pain. His brother gave a strange gulp that could be seen as a sob and left quickly. Loki heard the door to the second bathroom slam. He tried to breathe steadily but ended up gasping for air as blood began flowing around him, and quickly after that he heard Banner come in, though a film of black began to cloud his vision as Banner carefully pulled him away from the wall, and though he didn't remember the exact moment he collapsed, he must have done so, because he remembered nothing more after that.