"Look at you." She spat, "You're disgusting."
"And you look old." I said coldly. It hit dead on target. She slapped me again. I grinned, "Love you too mum."

"And what is this?" She demanded waving the gun between Loki and I.

"My husband." She looked like I'd shot her. "Loki, these are my fucking parents."

He said nothing.

"You talk to her." My mother roared at my father as she staggered to her wine glass. She was being dramatic; she wouldn't dare wave a gun in front of me if she was drunk. My dad grudgingly turned away from the television as he always did and walked to us. He ignored Loki entirely.

"I can't make your decisions for you," he began seeming reasonable as per usual, "but darling, we discussed this; you're poison. It's too late for anything but adoption –"

"That's not up to you, you prick. Is this why I was rudely harassed in the street – is this why two men are now dead?"

"You just can't help yourself." He growled his top lip curling with disgust. "This is why I shouldn't let this happen again."

I held his gaze as my mother stormed towards us.

"She killed her own sister!" she roared. "She killed my daughter!"

Loki still didn't even flinch.

"Are we done with this dance now?" I asked.

"Get out." my father breathed. I waved the gun in his face.

"I'm keeping this. Next time you come for me I'll take the guns off everyone who comes and I won't beg Loki here to leave them alone."

With that I turned and I didn't hear Loki move. I did hear him punch my father and the string of curses my mother shrieked at him after. I heard a gun being readied to fire and turned, aiming the gun at the ground and firing a shot before my mother's feet. They all froze. She was the one with the gun.

"How long do you think it will be until I shoot you?" I asked.

"They will –"

"Try. They will try mum. All the same you'll be dead. No more drugs or money."

She shook with fear and fury. Dad was K.O.'d. Loki looked like he wanted to go on a killing spree. I waited for him. He took his time and we left.

The elevator doors shutting seemed to close our anger too.

"I'm sorry." I whispered, fighting a wealth of tears.

He pulled me into an embrace, kissed my head and rested his cheek there. I don't know what he was thinking. I had to break the embrace and place a hand to my stomach – something was wrong.

IV drip in hand and a bed for observation through the night. I've done this bit more times than I can count on both hands, just never because of stress. Loki never left my side. It became abundantly clear we had both been more afraid for our children than for our own safety in that hotel as the night wore into day. Soon after that I took maternity leave, and waved to McGregor every afternoon as he walked several blocks out of his way to pass my house and make sure I wasn't running away. Loki and I didn't speak of the things revealed to him that night. We put it behind us.

Months passed and when I hit the 8 month mark I was as big as I could get, and I was so damn tired! The strain had me praying for an early birth and Loki prayed with me.

Being taken to Asgard happened so fast. A light, an awful, bizarre feeling of motion through me and then I heard Loki calling my name. As the light faded I saw him being dragged away by giant guards. I couldn't fathom what was happening. I tried to move towards him, but my arms were pinned behind me and I was being lead to a golden chariot. I shouted on him but this place was so vast that the sound was quickly swallowed.