A/N—I don't own. Marvel does.
Okay, so I've seen a lot of Loki-has-nightmares fics, and I decided to take the road less traveled. Um...so...enjoy! :)
Screaming.
It wound its way into Thor's dreams, tormenting him, causing him to toss and turn. His blankets were hands holding him back, his mattress an abyss that sucked him in, while the hand that was his pillow clamped itself over his mouth, muffling his cries.
Cold, chilly fingers suddenly gripped his arms. It lasted for only a split second—ice cold against his fevered skin—and then they were gone, and the blankets were slowly disentangled from his feet and legs. His pillow was eased out from underneath him, but whoever had taken it wasn't quick enough to catch Thor's head as it slammed back onto his mattress. His tortured brain sent his a flash of pointed rocks, and he woke with a scream.
Another shriek mirrored his, and Thor's eyes snapped open to reveal a pale Loki standing before him.
Thor's limbs were shaking violently, and he had to push himself up against the headboard of his bed to support himself.
Loki approached Thor's bed tentatively, his green eyes wide but sympathetic. "What were you dreaming about?" he asked quietly, sitting on the edge of the mattress.
"Screaming." Thor said. His voice was shaking as badly as his body, and his throat burned as he tried to suppress tears. "Just screaming. And my blankets and my pillow and my bed...it was just all oppressive."
Loki slowly crawled up next to Thor and put his arms around him.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, rocking Thor back and forth.
They sat there together, Thor's blankets lying on the floor until Loki bent and muttered something about his feet being cold.
It seemed odd, that a boy of sixteen should be able to make the frenzied dreams of an eighteen-year-old go away better than a mother or a father.
But he did.