Steve awoke, panting, eyes fearful. Such a nightmare like the one which had accompanied him throughout the long night was far worse than any of the flashbacks, the tendrils of dark memories encompassing his mind. He'd been forced to watch, as an entity, an outsider, as the demi-god under their care was struck, as he cried out, something Steve would've seen as incredibly out of character for Loki, had he not known the circumstances.
He buried his head in his pillow, clawing at the other side, trying to pull the images from their grasp on his mind. With others, he was calm, collected man who stood up for the rights of others, but when nobody could see, when he was out of sight, when no prying eyes intruded on his privacy, Steve was an emotional wreck. He pretended to be at peace with technology, yet he struggled to comprehend it, and it pained him to be such an outsider in this society. He felt as his fingers broke through the weakened material, the patches he clawed at after each painful night, and sighed. Yet another thing that billionaire twat could complain at him about, and there was nothing Steve could do to defend himself, as it was the same aforementioned billionaire who put a roof over his head, food on his plate, and clean clothes in his wardrobe.
He pushed himself upwards slowly off the palms of his hands, feeling his feet sink into the carpet as he rose. It was something he took for granted, the warmth beneath his feet, the monsters he didn't live in fear of. He pulled on the clothes lay across the edge of his bed, and let his weary legs carry him onwards. It wasn't a feeling that would last long, weariness, but it was an interesting one whilst it lasted.
The first thing Steve noticed was the distinct lack of complaining billionaires, demi-gods shouting at anything electrical, and assassins lurking about the towers. JARVIS was helpful upon request though, despite Steve wishing he hadn't asked when the response arrived. Apparently, Natasha and Clint were together, alone, doing things Steve's innocent mind couldn't comprehend, Thor was being very protective, and Tony and Bruce were currently hovering over the Sahara desert. Steve should've known better than to think Tony wouldn't do what he desired in such a situation. So occupied himself watching the CCTV footage of Loki's room, to see if there was any way to be of use towards the pained demi-god.
Thor was awakened by the soft whimpers emanating from beside him. Having only just awoken, coming face to face with a bruised Loki was quite a shock, as the memories of the previous day hadn't returned to him yet, and his instincts kicked in, jumping to his feet, clutching Mjolnir in his hand. His lips curled back as he held Mjolnir above his head, eyes scanning across the room. A sharp, cold growl escaped his throat, and he clenched his other hand into a fist, glancing back towards his brother once he'd assured himself it was only he and Loki there.
Mjolnir lowered, and dropped to the ground as it slowly returned to him, and the God of Thunder fell to his knees, as the feeling of uselessness, and guilt returned to him, pushing down, as if a realm itself rested upon his shoulders. His hands pressed downwards, head hung, as crack lines grew from beneath his hands. He pounded the dents with fists, lost in his anger and grief, each crack in the tiles merely another string of sorrow, another crack in his mentality.
Only did he stop when he felt a soft hand rested atop his shoulder, another one lifting him upwards. Thor didn't try to resist as he came to face the supersoldier, only glancing over Steve's expression. It was then he realised, that the way Steve looked was likely a reflection of himself, and it made him wonder why Steve cared so for someone he'd only encountered once, in which said someone tried to take over their world.
"Thank you, friend Steve. I fear I may have lost myself there. I do apologise for worrying you so." Steve merely nodded, Thor noticing how his gaze was transfixed upon the raven-haired demi-god, whimpering through his sleep.
"Would it be best for us to wake him? He sounds like he's in pain, or dreaming of what, um, you know…" Steve trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck as he saw the sorrow in Thor's eyes intensify upon mere mention. The God of Thunder looked at Steve, eyes vacant, and nodded slowly. Steve needed no more prompting, and moved forward, mirrored by the other occupant of the room. Thor grasped loosely onto his shoulders, Steve standing on hand to help, and attempted to awaken his brother in the only way Thor had ever known: shaking him.
Upon the slightest jolt, the emerald eyes shot open, glancing around frantically. Loki tried to push himself upwards, Thor's grasp holding him down, only causing him to panic more, uncertain of his surroundings. He struggled against the pressure, lashing out until he locked eyes with Thor. His breathing was still quickened, but he stopped writhing, laying still.
"Please, just, please don't do that…" He rasped, as Thor released his grip, backing away slightly. The demi-god glanced around, fear dancing in his eyes, twisting with each new sight. When his eyes brushed across Steve, the child-like fear he'd seen yesterday was gone, replaced with unspoken gratitude, and something else. Something that lit the murky green eye ever so slightly.
Loki pushed himself up into a seated position, wincing as half-healed cuts stretched, stitches pulling on the skin they wound around, as if they were formed of spiked rose bush vines. He pushed the sheet off himself, a short gasp of breath forcing itself out of his lungs, and ran one hand up and down his broken leg, squeezing his eyes shut as he pressed at the crack on one side, a dim green light, rather similar to his eyes, bathed the area of the leg he pressed against. Steve watched with incredulity, never actually having seen the magic properly himself, and found himself mesmerised by how it surrounded the skin by his hand, even as Loki hissed out in pain.
"What did you do?" Steve asked, unable to contain his fascination. Loki's hand twitched and clenched, extinguishing the light, as he moved his hand away, relaxing his body again. It was then, Steve remembered, that the aforementioned demi-god was in fact, still, topless, and he couldn't help the way his eyes glanced up and down the tainted pale skin, decorated with scattered cuts and almost healed bruises.
"I, 'jump started' the healing, to put it into your mortal phrasing. I have yet to thank you for yesterday, as I am sure, that if you had have known, whom it was, you would've left, as the agent had implied. So I extend to you, my sincerest thanks." Steve noticed the pattern in how Loki was acting: the occasional pause in speech, the winces, the hesitation at physical contact and the attempts to avoid eye contact. He was trying to hide away, pretend nothing had changed nor happened since their previous meeting.
"I would've helped you anyway. I wouldn't wish that upon anyone, never mind turn a blind eye towards it." Steve offered up a warm smile, the best action he could think of which wouldn't cause any further harm. The demi-god saw it, but only briefly, for his gaze was fleeting, flickering around the room, constantly analysing for something, anything, that could hurt him, or pose even the smallest of threats towards his sanity.
"Brother, be you willing to speak with me? I wish not to rush such things, but my concern for you is pressing indeed."
"About what?" Came the all too quick, slightly shaky response, and it was only then Steve began to realise the extent of the damage upon the once-confident, overly pertinacious prince of Asgard, the God of Mischief, not physically, but mentally, as he lay, a broken mirror, showing those who looked to him just what they desired to see, if they ignored the cracks running through it.
I decided to put the author note down here, out of the way. Again, thank you for reviewing, adding to favourites, and subscribing. Also, just a random little thing I'd like to share with you: the song Never Too Late by Three Days Grace is brilliant for understanding things from Thor's point of view at the moment, if not taken literally.
