1. Yin and Yang

Bruce hadn't expected to find Loki up on the roof in the middle of a storm, but there he was, just sitting there, getting soaked.

"Come on in!" he called out. "It's raining out here!"

"I know."

"You're getting drenched."

"It's only water." He hadn't looked up at all.

Bruce came over and sat down beside him. "What happened?" he asked. "You were getting along so well. What's got you down?"

Finally the god looked up. There was moisture running down his face, but Bruce wasn't sure if it was rainwater or tears. "How do you do it? How do you live knowing that there's a monster inside you? That your dark side is always waiting for the right moment, to erupt and destroy everything?"

"Can't go home yet, huh?"

"Odin says it is . . . too soon. He can return my powers to me, but he can't . . . erase everyone's memories. They still hate me, and they always will."

"Always is a long time. They'll forgive you."

"You are thinking in human terms. The entire span of your life is as the blink of an eye to my kind. Some of them have hated me for millennia. Can you even begin to understand that?"

"Yeah, I can, actually. But hating them is the wrong move. You need to just push that aside and move on. You can't force people to like you. You have to earn their respect. And it looks to me like you're well on your way to that already."

"Sometimes I think I am, but then . . . aaah!" He threw his hands up into the air in frustration. "I wish I could just rip out all the anger, all the jealousy, all the darkness, and have done with it!"

"Can half a man live?"

Loki stared at him blankly.

"Star Trek reference. That episode where Captain Kirk is split in half by a transporter accident . . . you haven't seen that one yet, have you?"

"I have not."

"Listen." Bruce pushed a lock of wet hair out of his eyes and continued. "A few years ago, I was in New Orleans, and I went to this obeah woman. That's like a healer, a magical healer," he explained, and Loki nodded. "I told her everything, about my childhood, the accident, and the Hulk. And I asked her if there was something she could give me to get rid of him. You know what she told me?"

"I cannot imagine."

"She said, 'He is part of you. All your rage, all your anger, given a face and a voice. He has always been a part of you, and you cannot remove him as you would a wart. You must learn to live in peace with him, for only when you find balance will both of you be happy.'"

"And what did you do?"

"I thought she was nuts. Live in peace with that monster? Yeah, like that was ever gonna happen. And then Nathan told me something."

"Did he?" Loki shifted position slightly, his wet clothes making a sucking sound on the hard stone.

"He said that I should try talking to him. Find out what he wants. At first I thought he was nuts, but then . . . I tried it. And I think I got through to him. I was actually surprised that it worked, but it does. And letting him smash stuff every once in a while helps, too."

"So . . . what are you suggesting?"

"Have you ever heard of the Eastern concept of yin and yang?"

The god frowned. "No, I don't think so."

"It's all about balance. About opposites. There can be no light without the darkness. There can be no day without night. Joy is defined by pain, and vice versa."

"That makes absolutely no sense at all."

"Okay, try this: when I want to talk to him, I picture myself in my quiet place. It's a place in my head where I feel safe and secure. Only when I feel completely at ease do I let him in. And we talk."

"You . . . hear voices?"

"No, it's all—it's like a form of deep meditation. You need to create that safe place, that sanctuary, for yourself, before you can begin to work with your other half. It can be either inside or outside. Some people find their happy place in nature. Sometimes it's on a beach, or on the top of a mountain. It should be somewhere that's uniquely personal to you. It's your own place, no one else's."

"And it's in my mind?"

"It takes practice, but once you've got it down, you can close your eyes and be there in an instant. And once you're at that level, then you can start thinking about bringing him in."

"Him? I have to give him a face, and a name?"

"It does help. Let's go in now, and I'll help you get started. You won't believe how much better it'll make you feel."

"All right, I suppose so." He stood up, shook himself like a dog, and went inside. Bruce followed, feeling a sense of satisfaction at having been able to help him.

There is no light without darkness. There is no day without night. And there is no spring without the winter's cold. When you stop fearing the darkness, and learn to live with it . . . that is when true healing begins.

Thank you, obeah woman.

And Nathan, for knowing it without even being aware. He was only nine and a half, but he was the most well-adjusted person Bruce had ever met.

2. Just a Cold

A few days before school vacation was due to start, Nathan caught a cold, but he didn't worry. He had his survival pack with him: cold tablets, cherry cough drops, packs and packs of tissues, a zipper-lock plastic bag to put the used tissues in, hand sanitizer, and antibacterial wipes. He'd be fine, and so would everyone else.

Dad had lots of activities planned for the week: a trip to the zoo, a visit to the Museum of Natural History, a ferry ride to the Statue of Liberty, and lots of other cool stuff. As long as they weren't all in one day, Nathan would be fine. His energy levels were a little low right now, because of the cold, but as long as he got plenty of sleep and drank lots of water, he'd be fine.

Right now, he sat in the back seat of the car, put his head back against the seat, and closed his eyes. He was due for another dose of medicine when they arrived, and he could feel the stuff starting to build up in his head. It felt very heavy, and he could barely hold it up. It was the first time he'd been sick all year, and he didn't like it one bit. And of course it would have to happen just as he was leaving for vacation . . .

"You all right back there, buddy?" Dad called to him. Nathan just grunted, not having the energy to answer properly.

"Oh, just let him sleep," said Uncle Tony. "He's tired, and he doesn't feel good, so just cut him some slack."

But Nathan wasn't asleep yet. He could still hear everything, but he didn't let it bother him. He just kept his mind on spending a whole week with his dad, and let everything else float away into the ether.

Maybe he did fall asleep, because the next thing he knew, his dad was shaking him. "We're here, Nate. Can you help me with your stuff?"

"Huh?" He opened his eyes and then coughed, covering his mouth just in time. "Sorry."

"Don't worry about it. Do you think you can lift your end of the trunk? It's really heavy."

"Yeah, I'll get it." He stretched, stood up, and came around to help with the trunk. Then he remembered his backpack and rushed to get it before coming back to lift his end of the trunk.

He only had to stop and rest once. Dad was good about it, telling him, "We'll move again when you're ready."

"I think I need another nap."

"That's fine. Come and say hello to everybody first, though, okay? Can you do that?"

"I think so."

"Okay, then. Whenever you're ready."

After taking a moment just to catch his breath, he picked up the trunk again. When they put it down again, inside the door of his room, he wanted to drop right on top of it. He was so tired. Maybe it was mono. One of the kids at school had had mono at the beginning of the term. He'd been out of commission for almost a month.

Nathan hoped he didn't have mono.

"Should I unpack first," he asked, "or go say hi first?"

"Go say hi to everyone first," Dad said. "Then you can go take a nap."

"Did you have anything planned today?" Was today the museum trip, or was it tomorrow?

"Not really. I figured you could take today to settle in and relax, and tomorrow we'll go somewhere. How does that sound?"

"Sounds great." Nathan hoped the medicine started to kick in by tomorrow, or this would be a very boring vacation. He wanted to see the zoo and the museum and the other places that Dad had planned for them to go. He was sure he'd be fine; it was only a little cold, after all.

He wanted to go lay down on his bed and go to sleep—he was soooo tired—but he held it together long enough to go upstairs and say hello to everyone. Well, almost everyone. Thor wasn't there; when Nathan asked, Uncle Tony said that he had gone back to Asgard for some sort of formal event that might take days, or weeks. It had something to do with the end of a war.

"So Loki went with him?"

"Uh, no, actually, Loki's been in his room ever since Thor left. I don't know what he's up to, but a couple of times when I've walked by there, I can swear I hear . . . Taylor Swift."

Nathan just shrugged. "Cool. Can I go unpack now?"

"Sure," his dad said. "I'll come and get you when it's time for dinner."

With that, Nathan went to his room, took some of his medicine, lay down on the bed, and went to sleep still in his clothes. He never did get anything unpacked.

He woke some time later to the knock on his door. When Nathan opened his eyes, someone was standing over him. "Dad?"

But it wasn't his dad. It was Loki.

Nathan stared at him, trying to think of something to say, when suddenly the god vanished. The boy blinked, wondering if what he'd seen was real or only in his mind.

Then his dad came in. "Oh, good, you're awake. You hungry?"

"Yeah," Nathan said, though he wasn't, really. "What's for dinner?"

"Fish sticks and corn on the cob."

"The good kind of fish sticks?"

"The best kind. How're you feeling?"

"Okay, I guess." His head was a little fuzzy, still, but he could breathe all right, and he thought he'd be able to eat something.

There were only four plates on the counter when they got to the kitchen. "Who's not eating?" Dad asked.

"Well," Uncle Tony said, as he counted out fish sticks, "Mr. and Mrs. Smith had to leave for Dubai. They'll be gone for at least two weeks. Pepper's still in her meeting, and Cinderevil is still sulking about not being invited to the ball."

"He is eating, isn't he?"

"Well, he's not dead, so he must be. Either he's sneaking out to get food, or he's got the world's biggest supply of Pop Tarts stashed in his room."

Nathan wondered if he should say something about seeing Loki in his room just now. But he wasn't sure if that had really happened, so he kept quiet about it for now. It wasn't really lying, was it, if they didn't ask him?

"I'll make him up a plate anyway," Uncle Tony said. "If he wants it, he can come and get it. I'm willing to give him all the space he needs just as long as it doesn't affect his health. But if he's starving to death, I'll break that door down."

"I doubt he'd take it to those extremes," said Dad. "He's a drama llama, but he has a strong sense of self-preservation. When he needs food, he'll come and find it."

It happened again the next morning. Nathan woke up and saw Loki staring down at him. He tried to say something, but started coughing so hard he saw spots before his eyes. When his vision cleared, the trickster was gone.

He wondered if he should say something about it to his dad, but decided that it was no big deal. At least he knew now that Loki was coming out occasionally, and must be eating something.

He decided to go have some breakfast. Juice, at least. That would help his cold. And he needed to take some more medicine before they left for the museum. And bring extra cough drops, too.

He noticed, when he opened the fridge to get the juice and the milk for his cereal, that the leftover fish dinner from the night before was gone. See? He was eating. Why he wouldn't come out and talk to them, Nathan didn't understand, but he supposed it was a grownup thing. Or maybe a god thing.

Or maybe, like Uncle Tony said, he was just being moody.

Dad got up about seven-thirty. "Hey, Nate. How're you feeling?"

"Okay." He did feel a little better. A good night's sleep had made a big difference. "What time are we going to the museum?"

"Well, they don't even open until nine, and we have to wait for Uncle Tony anyway. Unless he's working on something, he sleeps late. So maybe nine-thirty? If he's not up by then, I'll go get him."

"What about Loki? Can he come?" Nathan coughed into his elbow. When he pulled his arm away, there was a thick blob of yellowish phlegm on his pajama sleeve. "Eew!"

Dad handed him the box of tissues. "Just wipe that off. You take your medicine yet?"

"Not yet. I will before we leave, though."

"Why don't you go take it now? Then you won't forget."

"Okay." He stood there for a minute, trying to remember what it was that he wanted to tell Dad. There was something . . . oh, never mind. If he thought of it, he'd tell him.

By the time he'd been to his room and back, Uncle Tony was up, sitting at the counter drinking coffee. "Hey, sport. How you feeling today?"

"All right. I took my medicine."

"Well, good. Just don't breathe on me, okay? I can't afford to get sick right now."

"I'll try not to." He didn't want to be the cause of everyone getting sick. Then they'd all be mad at him, and he didn't want anyone to be mad at him.

Uncle Steve came in, fully dressed in a suit and tie (which Nathan had never seen him in before), and poured himself a cup of coffee. "Morning, guys."

"Where are you off to?" Uncle Tony asked him.

"I'm, um, meeting someone."

"Really? Like, a female someone?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

"Yeah. I would, actually. So spill."

"We're going to the Natural History Museum," Nathan said. His voice came out sounding funny, and he tried to clear his throat, but it turned into a coughing fit. When he could breathe again, he poured himself another glass of juice.

"You sure you're okay?" his dad asked him. "We can go another day, you know. We've got all week."

"I'm okay. I'll bring extra cough drops."

"All right, but if you start feeling really sick, you let me know, and we'll go home. I don't want you pushing yourself beyond what your body can take. Even if we don't get to see everything today, we can go back another time. If not this week, then maybe in the summertime, or on one of your weekends. Okay?"

"Okay, Dad." Nathan nodded and drank some more juice. He was sure he'd be okay; it wasn't as if he was running the New York Marathon or moving furniture or something strenuous like that, just walking around a museum for a few hours. He could do that, right? There was nothing wrong with his legs, after all.

"Well, I'm off," said Uncle Steve. "Enjoy the museum, kiddo. Maybe I'll go with you next time."

"I want details!" Uncle Tony called after him. "At least tell me her name!"

"Her name is Miss Nunya Bizness."

"Oh, come on! Pictures! Send pictures!"

But he was already gone.

"Fine! Whatever! We'll have a better time without you anyway! Go get dressed, Nate, we'll leave as soon as you're ready."

"Can I wear my dinosaur sweatshirt?"

"Absolutely! There's no dress code. Wear whatever you want."

"Okay!" He ended up wearing his Iron Man sweatshirt, since he couldn't find the dinosaur one; Uncle Tony approved. And he stuffed his pockets full of cough drops, but unfortunately, he forgot the tissues and had to make do with some napkins that Dad found in the car's glove compartment. But at least he had hand sanitizer.

Nathan loved the museum, just as Bruce had known he would. He raced from exhibit to exhibit, eager to take in everything all at once. The only thing he refused to do was touch anything, for fear of leaving germs behind. He tried not to breathe on anything, either.

But all that running around was taking a lot out of him. When they finally made it to the Hall of Dinosaurs or whatever it was called, he began coughing so hard that he had to stop and hold onto something so that he wouldn't fall over.

"Listen to him," Tony whispered. "I think it's time to take him home."

"You could be right. We have been all over this place already. Yeah, I think we should go." With that, he walked up to where Nathan stood and placed a hand on his shoulder. "We're gonna go now, okay?"

"But—but what about the dinosaurs?"

"We'll see them next time. We've been here for four hours, buddy. We'll go home and have lunch, and then maybe we'll watch some movies. You get to pick the movie. Anything you want."

There was a plate with two thick grilled cheese sandwiches, a bowl of chicken noodle soup, and a mug of tea sitting at his place when he came back from his room. He looked over, and Dad was standing at the stove, flipping over his own sandwich and smiling.

"Thanks," he said, his voice thick and gravelly. He drank some of the tea, and though he didn't like the taste much, the honey did go down smoothly and made his throat feel better.

"Want a bit of milk in it?" Dad asked. Nathan nodded, figuring that it couldn't hurt. Dad poured just enough so that the tea wouldn't overflow the mug. Nathan stuck his spoon in it and stirred, seven times, counter-clockwise.

"Your mother used to stir her tea like that," Dad said. "I remember that from when we worked together. You know, you're so much like her, in so many ways. It surprises me sometimes."

"Really?"

"Really. Eat your soup before it gets cold."

"Where's Uncle Tony?"

"He said he had something to do, down in the lab. He'll be around, if you need him. Loki's still in his room, I guess. I haven't seen him since we got back."

"Dad? What if he gets out?"

"Well, he's not a prisoner. If he wants to come out and join us, he's welcome. And if he doesn't, that's okay too. I'll go knock on his door again, when we're finished eating."

"He's been in my room a couple of times," Nathan said, before he could stop himself.

Dad looked at him curiously. "Has he? When?"

"Yesterday, before you came to get me, and then again this morning. The first time, I thought I'd imagined it, but when it happened again, I knew it had to be real. He didn't do anything, just stood there looking at me. Then he kind of disappeared."

"Hmm. Do you lock your door?"

"Not at night. I'm not supposed to, in case there's a fire."

"So he's not breaking in. He still shouldn't be in your room, though. I'll have to speak to him about it."

"Dad, what's wrong with him?"

"What makes you think anything's wrong?"

"Yesterday, when I woke up and saw him there, he looked so sad. I wanted to ask him why, but he was gone before I could. When's Thor coming back?"

"I don't know. He said it might be a few days. We don't know how to get in touch with him."

"He'd come if it was an emergency, right?"

"But it's not an emergency."

"It could be."

"Look, sport. Before you go crying wolf, let me talk to Loki and find out what's going on. If he'll talk to me. Which I think he will; he seems to like me."

"And me."

"Well, that goes without saying. You were his first real friend here, did you know that?"

"I'm done." The bowl was empty, the plate held only crumbs, and the mug had been drained dry.

"So you are. Did you want to watch the movie now, or do you want a nap first?"

"I'll try to sleep. But I can't—" The cough came out of nowhere and took him by surprise. Once he started, it was like he couldn't stop. He tried to cover his mouth, but it was like he couldn't even breathe. Then it was over, as suddenly as it had begun.

"That doesn't sound good at all," Dad said. "I think maybe you should lie down for a bit. We'll put the movie on when you're ready."

"Okay." He wasn't really that tired, but if Dad said he should lie down, then he would. Dad was smart, and he knew what he was doing.

What was he doing?

Bruce paused before Loki's door, wondering if this was a mistake. Didn't the man deserve some privacy? If he wanted to socialize, he would have come out and joined them long ago. Maybe he had a good reason for staying holed up in his room. Or maybe he just didn't feel like joining the human race right now.

If he doesn't answer, or he won't come out, I'll just go away. No point in pestering him.

He tapped on the door. "Loki? Are you busy?"

There was no immediate answer.

He tried again. "Loki? We're not mad at you, or anything. We just want to make sure that you're okay. Nathan's worried about you."

He waited for a reply.

"I'm fine," the muffled response came from the other side of the door. "Please go away."

"Okay. But if you need anything, please come and tell us." He started to walk away, and then thought of one more thing. "And please don't go into Nathan's room while he's sleeping."

"I did what?" The door opened suddenly, and the god, in a faded MIT sweatshirt that he must have stolen from Tony's closet, was standing there, looking puzzled. "I haven't been in anyone's room but my own."

"But he says he saw you standing over him, when he woke up. Yesterday, and this morning."

"He must be mistaken. I have not been in his room at all."

"He was so sure you were there. You have been sneaking out to get food, though, haven't you?"

"To that, I will confess."

"You could always sit down with us."

"Not . . . right now. I am not in the mood."

"Okay. It's there, when you want it. I'll leave you now."

"Doctor?"

He stopped in his tracks, turned. "What is it?"

"He's not well, is he? The boy?"

"He's got a cold. He'll be fine. I've got it."

"Are you sure? I heard him coughing . . ."

"I know. I can take care of it. Don't worry."

And with that, he left the floor. He heard the door close and lock behind him, and vowed that he would find a way to entice the god out of his seclusion—in the nicest possible way, of course. It was either that or wait for Thor to come home, and that could take days, if not weeks. Celestial beings had no sense of time, at least not in the way that mortals did. It could be ages before he was able to slip away from the family party or whatever—

Family party.

Loki was family, and he wasn't invited.

No wonder the guy was so down. Nobody likes to be excluded from all the fun, even if they know they're not welcome at the party. Bruce felt really bad for him now, even though he'd never had a family to reject him. He wanted more than ever to try and bring the god out of his shell, but he knew that to press the issue would only make him clam up more. Best to leave it for now, and let him come to them in his own time.

His primary concern right now was Nathan, who really sounded bad. Bruce knew he should go in and take a look at the boy at some point, but he also knew that Nathan didn't like being fussed over. He was sensible enough to go to bed if he was really feeling bad, but he didn't like to take up too much of anyone else's time.

Just to satisfy his own sense of paternal responsibility, he looked in on the boy quickly. He was sleeping already, although it hadn't been that long since Bruce had left, and although his breathing sounded a bit wheezy, he didn't have a fever—or not much of one, if he did—and he seemed better. He'd just have to keep after Nate to keep taking his medicine, and stay indoors. The zoo trip was definitely out, especially since there was a chance of rain tomorrow.

All of a sudden, Bruce became aware of another presence in the room.

He turned around, and saw Loki standing by the boy's bed, leaning over him. "I thought you said you didn't come in—"

The god looked at him, flickered, and disappeared.

A projection? It had to be. And one that he clearly wasn't aware of, since he had insisted that he hadn't been in Nathan's room at all. Well, this proved one thing, at least: Nate wasn't imagining things. Loki had really been here, or at least part of him had.

But why?

A question that might never be answered. In the meantime, Bruce returned to the living room, pulled out Ghostbusters, one of Nate's favorite movies, for them to watch later, and sat and read for a while.

A little while later, Steve came in. His jacket was unbuttoned, and his tie was pulled down, but Bruce didn't ask. "Hi," he said. "Good time?"

"She never showed. I waited for forty-five minutes, and there was no sign of her. I couldn't call her, because I didn't have her number, so I waited for her to call me. Nothing. In my day, if a woman asked you to meet her some place, she would be waiting there when you got there. On time. And if she couldn't make it, she'd call and let you know why. People are so rude these days."

"Maybe something came up," Bruce suggested, "and she couldn't call you. Do you at least know her last name? Maybe you could look her up on Facebook or something."

Steve shook his head. "She told me, but I can't remember what it was. Probably just as well."

"Do you want some music? Or the TV?"

"No," he sighed. "I think I'll just go get changed and go work out for a while. I'm too frustrated to sit still right now."

"Okay. I'll call you when dinner's ready. I was thinking I'd make beef stew; that sound okay to you?"

"Sounds great." He disappeared down the hall, and Bruce went back to his book.

It was just a quiet day, with all of them off doing their own thing, but when dinner time came around, Bruce laid out five bowls on the counter.

Five.

"Expecting company, are we?" said Tony.

"I'm hoping that Loki will come and join us. If not, I'll just put it aside for him."

"I'll go get him." Before anyone could stop him, the billionaire strode off down the hall and didn't stop till he got to Loki's door. He banged on it, calling, "Yo! Rudolph! Time to eat!"

"No, thank you."

"You don't understand. That wasn't a request. That was a statement of fact. The fact that if you don't come out of hibernation right now, I'm coming in there to drag you out, one way or another."

"I'd like to see you try."

"Don't make me come in there."

"I want to be alone!"

"You don't get to be alone! My house, my rules, and one of my rules is that we all eat together. So stop this nonsense and come out and join us!"

The door opened so suddenly that Tony stumbled forward a bit, but caught himself. "Nonsense? You call it nonsense, the fact that my family doesn't want me in their presence? That I can't see my children? It was all I was looking forward to, and now I may never see them again!"

"You're not the only one here with family issues, you know!"

"Hey, guys!" Steve had come to find out what all the shouting was about. "What's going on?"

Loki crossed his arms in front of his chest. "I do not appreciate," he said coldly, "being ordered to leave my room, like a child! I don't care if it's your house! If I had anywhere else to go, I would."

"You need to stop moping around and grow up already! Oh, boo hoo, your family hates you. I never had the best relationship with my father. You know what my last words to him were? Literally, screw you. And then he died. And I couldn't take them back. At least you still have a chance to make things right with your family."

"They will never forgive me."

"All right, this is clearly an issue for another time," said Steve. "For now, Loki, would you please come eat with us? Then you can be alone, if you want."

"We're gonna watch Ghostbusters," Tony said. "I know you like that movie. You're welcome to sit with us. I promise not to yell anymore."

"Well . . . I suppose. What's for dinner?" Loki stepped out of his room and closed the door behind him.

Crisis averted. For now.

Nathan seemed a bit better, Bruce noticed. He ate two bowls of stew, plus four slices of bread and butter, and he didn't cough or complain at all. The nap had done him some good.

"I want you to pick out a couple of movies," he said, "that we can watch tomorrow."

"I thought we were going to the zoo tomorrow," Nathan said, confused.

"We can go to the zoo later in the week. It's supposed to be kind of yucky out, anyway. Not exactly zoo-going weather."

"I don't wanna mess up your plans!"

"You're not messing up my plans. We'll just . . . juggle things around a bit. Don't worry about it. Sometimes the best part of a vacation is having the time to stay in and do nothing."

"Well . . . okay." He didn't look too happy, but he let the matter go and finished his dinner. "That was good, Dad."

"Yes, it was very good," said Tony. "You're quite the chef, Doc."

Bruce just shrugged. "I've had to do for myself for so long. It feels nice to be able to share with others. I like having a family."

"Oh, is that what we are?" Tony looked around. "I guess we are. Yeah, it's . . . nice. At least we have each other."

Loki looked at him but didn't say a word. Bruce decided to change the subject. "Who wants strawberry shortcake? With real whipped cream."

"Is it the kind in the little spongy cups, or the kind on biscuits?" Nathan asked.

"Biscuits. There's vanilla ice cream in it, too. But you have to eat it at the table, cause strawberry juice stains the carpet."

"I have never had this short cake with strawberries before," said Loki.

"Oh, you'll love it!" said Tony. "You like strawberries, right?"

"I . . . guess so."

"Well, try it anyway. If you don't like it, give it to me, and I'll finish it for you. I never met a strawberry shortcake I didn't like."

"All right, then."

As it turned out, the strawberry shortcake was delicious. There was just enough for everyone to have seconds, and Loki did so gladly. Nathan just had the ice cream the second time around.

He fell asleep halfway through the movie, even though it was only seven-thirty. Bruce had to wake him up to put him to bed, since the kid was too big to carry. He tucked him in and wished he could do more for him. It was hard to know exactly what to do until he knew exactly what the boy had, and he wouldn't know that without a full examination. Hopefully, he could do that tomorrow.

He came back out to the living room and sat back down.

"How is he?" asked Tony.

"I think he'll be okay. It's probably just a bad cold, but sometimes it sounds so bad. That cough . . . I want to listen to his lungs, to make sure it's not something serious."

"Schools are hotbeds of germs. They're always coughing and sneezing on each other."

"I remember those days well," said Steve. "Up until I was about nine or ten, I would be pretty much constantly sick from October until May. Then it got a little bit better. The worst thing was hearing all the kids playing outside, and knowing that I couldn't go out and join them. It seemed like I was always in a room by myself."

"I, too, did not have many playmates," said Loki. "Thor's friends let me tag along with them, but I had no one to play with when he wasn't around. That should have been my first clue, that I wasn't like everyone else."

When the movie was over, they debated whether or not to put on the sequel (which was ehhh) or pick another movie entirely. Problem was, there wasn't any movie currently lodged in the entertainment center that they could all agree on. So they put the TV on and flipped around channels until they found something non-offensive that they could stand to watch for the few hours remaining until bedtime.

And through it all, Loki just sat there, presumably watching the program but who knew what he was thinking. He said nothing unless someone spoke to him directly, and then he kept his responses to one syllable. He didn't seem to be having a good time, and finally during a commercial, Bruce said, "You don't have to stay with us. You can go, if you want."

The god looked at him. "Go?"

"Back to your room. Just remember to come out for breakfast. Okay?" He wanted to reach out and put a comforting hand on his shoulder, but he wasn't sure how Loki would react to being touched.

"All right. Thank you for dinner. It was very good." He got up and went back to his room, glancing once over his shoulder as if he expected them to be talking about him the second his back was turned. When he saw that they weren't talking about anything at all, he moved on.

There was some new cop show on one of the high-number cable stations. They watched that until the news came on, and then Bruce stood up and stretched. "Think I'll turn in now," he said.

"Okay," said Tony. "See you tomorrow."

"Good night," said Steve.

Before he went to his own room, Bruce took a moment to look in on Nathan. He was still sleeping, and there was no one else, projection or not, in the room. Satisfied, Bruce went to bed.

Something woke him suddenly. He felt the Other Guy stirring deep within him, and deep-breathed until he was sure he had control of himself. Only then did he open his eyes.

"About time," Loki said. "I was about to shake you, but I thought that might rouse your beast instead."

"Well, thank you for that." Was this a projection, or was he really here? Bruce was confused. But the projections had never spoken before . . .

When the god put his hand on the scientist's arm, he knew that this was no projection. "Come! Hurry! The boy, he—something is wrong!"

"What?" He sat up and tried to look at the clock. It was 3:27 AM. "What's wrong? Tell me!"

"I think you had better see this for yourself. Part of me knew this was coming, but I didn't know until I was compelled to go and check on him, just now."

"Ah." That explained the projections. Bruce swung his legs over the side of the bed and gradually worked his way to a standing position. "All right, let's go."

He could hear it before they even got near the boy's room: the cough that sounded like it was ripping his lungs apart. It was a wonder that it hadn't woken the whole household. There was no question about it now. They would have to take him to the hospital.

"Nathan?" Bruce approached his son slowly and cautiously. The boy was sitting up in bed, leaning forward slightly, and coughing so hard that the whole bed was shaking. He put his ear to the boy's chest; he didn't hear the rattle of water in his lungs, but there was something in there that he just couldn't clear. He was burning up, too.

"What's wrong with him?" Loki asked.

"I'm not sure. I'm thinking either flu or bronchitis. It's definitely not pneumonia, though. Go wake up Tony and tell him we need a ride to the emergency room."

"No need, sir," the smooth voice of JARVIS came through the room's speakers. "The rest of the household has already been alerted to the emergency."

"I wish you were human, JARVIS, so I could hug you. Thanks for saving us some time. All right, buddy, let's get up now."

Nathan looked at him helplessly. "Dad, I . . ." he wheezed. "I can't."

"Come on. I know you can do this. Let's break it down into baby steps. Can you stand up?"

"It hurts . . ."

"What hurts?"

"My chest . . . when I cough . . ."

"That's okay. We're gonna go get that checked out. You're gonna be just fine. Now can you stand up for me?"

"I don't know . . ."

"C'mon, I'll help you." He put an arm around the boy and tried to lever him up onto his feet. He had trouble at first, but then it became easier. In surprise, he looked over and saw Loki on Nathan's other side, helping to support him.

Between the two of them, they helped him out of the room, into the elevator, and down to the parking garage, where Tony had brought the car around.

"Are you coming?" he asked the god, after the two of them had loaded Nathan into the car.

Loki shook his head. "I don't think I can."

"That's okay. Go upstairs and tell the others that I'll call as soon as I know what's going on. There's no point in all of us clogging up the waiting room. If my suspicions are correct, we'll probably be home later today, maybe this afternoon. I'll keep them up to date as much as I can."

The Jotun nodded and went back to the elevator. Tony pulled out at a speed that was probably unsafe for inside the garage, but Bruce understood that he was worried, too. He wasn't worried about them getting a speeding ticket—if they had to, they could explain to the officer that they had a legitimate medical emergency here, and maybe even get an escort—but he was concerned that at this speed, in confined spaces, Tony might lose control of the Hummer and roll over or crash.

Then, finally, they rounded the last corner and Bruce saw the exit up ahead. He breathed a sigh of relief, and knew that everything was going to be all right now.

The dragon at the front desk handed them a stack of forms to fill out and told them to have a seat.

Nathan was coughing again, trying to cover his mouth, and the sound caused Bruce's heart to leap into his throat. For one horrifying second, he saw green. Then Tony was there, taking him by the arm and helping him to a seat. "Let me handle this," he said.

"He needs help," Bruce practically sobbed. "Why won't they let him in?"

"I called my personal physician before we left. She should be here by now. I'll go ask them to call her." He went up to the front desk. "Excuse me."

The dragon gave him a dirty look and went back to filing her papers.

"Could you please call Dr. Birnbaum down here? I spoke to her earlier; she's expecting us."

"Have a seat, sir. We'll be right with you."

"Do you hear that?" He gestured back toward the row of seats where Nathan sat, coughing as if his lungs were coming apart. "That kid is sick! He needs to be seen right away! Do you know who we are?"

"I don't know, and I really don't care. We've had to handle several accidents tonight, sir, and—"

"And if you're not careful, you'll have another. That man over there is . . ." He looked over at Bruce. No, he couldn't play the Hulk card; it wouldn't be fair. "He's a father," he finished. "That kid is his only child. He'll never have another—the mother is dead! Losing that child will destroy that man. Please, if you have a shred of decency in you, call Dr. Birnbaum. I don't know how much longer we can wait."

She hesitated. He took advantage of the opening. "Do you have kids . . ." He squinted at her name tag. "Shantal? Did I pronounce that right?"

"I have two boys," she said. "Eight, and eleven."

"And you'd move heaven and earth to get them help if they were sick, right?"

She gave him a long, long look, and then she said, "I'll call Dr. Birnbaum. But you sit your rear end down until she gets here! If you disrupt the other patients, I will have you thrown out of here. Now sit!"

He sat. He was afraid to move now, after she had threatened to evict him from the premises. And she meant business, he could tell.

"Is the doctor coming?" Bruce asked.

"The . . . nice lady at the desk is calling her." Tony glanced up at Shantal the Desk Dragon and quickly looked away before she could catch him looking. "We just have to wait for a few minutes."

"Some of these people have been here for hours."

"What do you want me to do? He can't see just anybody; Susan has his file, she knows what to expect. She should be here by now."

It seemed like forever before a petite, dark-haired woman in a white coat approached them. "Nathan?"

He looked up, exhaustion in his eyes. It was four-thirty in the morning.

"I'm Doctor Birnbaum," she said. "If you'd like to come with me, please . . ."

Nathan stood up. So did the men on either side of him.

"I'm sorry," the doctor said, "but only one of you can come in with him."

Tony turned to Bruce and said, "You go. You're the dad. I'll see if I can call home and give them an update."

"Sounds like a plan."

When they were in the exam room, behind closed doors, Dr. Birnbaum said, "You can turn that off now, Nathan. It's safe."

He looked at her quizzically.

"Your inducer. You won't need it in here, and I need to see you as you are. You'll have to get undressed, too, but you can keep your underpants on."

The boy blushed, which looked greenish-purple on his scaly face. "Do I have to?"

"I'm afraid so. I can't do the tests I need to do through your clothes. If you end up having to stay here, I'll put them in a bag with your name on it, so they won't get lost. But hopefully you won't be here for more than a few hours. Okay? I'll be back in a few minutes."

She left the room, and Nathan reluctantly started taking off his pajamas. His dad helped him, since he was too weak to lift his arms over his head.

"Am I gonna have to stay?" he asked.

"Maybe. It depends on what they find when they run the tests. It shouldn't be anything too scary," he said, seeing the look on Nate's face. "Nothing involving needles or electricity. Probably a chest X-ray, but that's not too bad. All you have to do is hold still for a few minutes. You can do that, can't you?"

Nathan nodded grimly. He didn't like medical tests, and with good reason; Bruce still didn't know the full extent of the torture Jack Franklin had put the boy through, and he doubted he ever would. He was thankfully past the point where he would scream if he so much as saw a needle, but he had a long way to go before he felt comfortable in the presence of so many sharp objects.

Dr. Birnbaum came back a few minutes later. "Okay, let's see what's going on in here," she said, holding the end of a stethoscope to Nathan's chest. "Deep breath in . . . and let it out."

The effort of breathing deeply made him cough, but the doctor just nodded and said, "Again. Hold it this time." She listened as he breathed in and out, and she didn't seem too perturbed by what she heard. "Are you having any pain in your chest?"

"Sometimes, when I cough."

"Any other times?"

The boy thought about it and shook his head.

"Okay, I'm going to take you into another room now. I'm going to take a few X-rays, just to rule out anything serious. This will just take a few minutes, okay?"

Nathan looked at his dad, who said, "I'll wait for you here. Don't be scared. It's not anything that'll hurt you. Just do what the doctor says, and I'll see you soon."

The X-ray wasn't as bad as Nathan had thought it would be. All he had to do was stand in front of the machine and hold still for about a minute. He felt himself needing to cough, but held it in.

At last, the doctor told him he could go back in the other room and get dressed. He was so tired he could barely make it, but he managed to drag himself back to where his dad was waiting. Together, they got his clothes back on.

"What do you think, Dad?" Nathan asked hoarsely. "How bad is it?"

"We'll see when the doctor comes back. I think I know what it is, but I want to see what she says first."

"Okay." He sat there, breathing shallowly so he wouldn't set off another coughing fit, but it was harder than he thought. Not being able to breathe through his nose wasn't helping.

At last Dr. Birnbaum came into the room. "Well, the good news is," she began, "it definitely isn't pneumonia. The symptoms would seem to indicate bronchitis. You won't need antibiotics, and it should clear up within about two to three weeks."

Nathan's heart sank. There went his vacation. "Will I have to stay in bed?"

"No, although you may be more tired than normal. If you need to sleep, you should, but don't chain yourself to your bed. You can go back to school at the end of the week. You shouldn't be contagious anymore. If the cough gets worse, or persists beyond four weeks, call me. Otherwise, you should be fine."

"That's exactly what I thought it was," Dad said. "Thank you, Doctor. What do you recommend for something like this?"

"There are several over the counter cough remedies that will help. Don't go for a multi-symptom medicine, though; they tend not to work as well on specific symptoms. Tylenol should bring that fever right down, and help with some of the aches as well. But given your immune system, I wouldn't be surprised if you were completely over it within a week."

"I hope so," Nathan said. "Can I go now?"

"Sure. Like I said, call me if you don't get better in a few days. It was very nice meeting you, Nathan." And he could tell that she meant it.

They returned to the tower about five o'clock, and Nathan took his doses of cough syrup and Tylenol and went straight to bed. As he walked back to his own rooms, Bruce noticed that Loki's door was closed, although that didn't mean he was within. He could be in another part of the tower, or on the roof where he liked to sit sometimes. Bruce wasn't worried, though; wherever the god was, he'd be at breakfast with the rest of them soon enough.

He decided to catch a few more hours of sleep, if he could, and set his alarm for eight. Long before that, however, the thunder woke him up.

At first he was confused. There weren't any storms in the forecast last night, were there? But then he realized what the thunder meant.

Thor was back.

By the time Bruce made it out to the kitchen, Loki was there. He looked glad to see his brother at last.

"How is Mother?" he asked.

Thor smiled. "She sends her love. She spoke up for you, tried to convince Father to let you come, but he refused. He said . . . not yet."

"When, then? When do I get to see my children?"

"Right now!"

"But . . . I thought you said—"

"I said you could not come to Asgard. But you see, Asgard has come to you! Come, children! Your father waits!"

There was a flurry of activity and childish shouts as three or four little boys (they were moving too quickly for Bruce to get an accurate count) came running. "Daddy, Daddy!"

The look on Loki's face was wondrous to behold. "Oh, my boys!" he cried, holding out his arms. They swarmed all over him. "Oh, my babies! To hold you at last!"

The last to arrive was a little girl who looked about seven years old. Her dark hair hung in two thin braids, and when Bruce looked closely, he noticed that she had one green eye and one brown eye.

"Hello, Father," she said solemnly.

Loki looked up from the boys' attentions to meet her mismatched eyes. "Hello, Hela," he said, and then she too launched herself into his arms.

"Come, children!" Thor roared. "We will have waffles and syrup, and watch Bob the Sponge of the Square Pants!"

"I'll be right back," Bruce said, and went to Nathan's room. He was pleased to find the boy awake. "You feel like coming out for breakfast?"

"I guess so," Nathan said. "I do feel a little better. I heard the thunder. Is Thor back?"

"He is, and he brought company."

"Company?"

"Family members. They're a little younger than you . . . I think. Hard to tell with demigods. Anyway, they're watching cartoons, if you want to come and join them."

"I won't get them sick?"

"The doctor said you're not contagious anymore. Just don't cough on them or anything."

"I won't."

"And we're having waffles. I know you like waffles."

"With blueberry syrup?"

"I think I can find some for you."

"Yay!" He practically leaped out of bed. Maybe this vacation wouldn't turn out so bad, after all.