Okay i know its short im sorry but i liked it where it ended for this chapter and i couldnt take it further and im TIRED so im really sorry :P I own nothing
The flight back had been difficult, to say the least. Thor was clambering to get to his little brother, but Loki gave no response to his touch, nor that of anyone else. When they first took him from the compound, he had been acting weirdly normal, smiling and laughing although his eyes and the slightly manic tone to his voice gave him away. Bruce wasn't sure which concerned him more, the manic laughter or the catatonia that came after.
"Loki, brother, look at me. Please." Thor was pleading, trying to turn the emerald eyes to his own. After climbing aboard the Quinjet, but not before trashing a few of SHIELDS more important research rooms, Loki had gone silent, responding only when someone leaned forward to place a hand on his shoulder. Soon after he had stopped responding at all, and it tore Thor apart to see. Steve and Bruce had silently cleaned some of his more obvious wounds, namely the ones on his face and arms, whilst Thor held his brother through his shaking, the only movement Loki had shown since departure. The Thunder God had let out a strangled whimper when he saw the word monster carved into his brothers forearm. He thought of how often his brother called himself that, of how his brothers Jotun heritage had been revealed to him. The All-father had summoned him to the bifrost, sitting him on the rainbow bridge. He had spoken of the battle with the Frost Giants, and of the importance of gaining from war. He had then moved on to reassure him, almost, that Loki's actions were not of his making, that Loki had always been vicious. Thor remembered how angry he had become that their father would say such a thing about his brother, the brother he was mourning for. Then Odin had lost his temper.
"But he is not your brother, Thor, he is a Jotun runt, and you would do better to forget him. He was cruel, and jealous. You will grow as a person without him. You have no reason to mourn."
He had been shocked, but it had not outbalanced his disgust at his fathers words during his time of mourning. He had refused to speak to his father for weeks, until Midgard was threatened and he had travelled there. He did not know at the time he would be reunited with his brother once more.
And now he was clutching that little brother like his last lifeline, afraid to let him go lest he be taken again.
He was sure he looked like a true warrior in front of his comrades.
Bruce straightened as they began to descend over the landing pad, preparing himself. He was the most medically trained in the group, Tony falling a close second. They would be in charge of patching Loki up again, and after last time, they were both a little anxious about it. The thought of how recently that last time had been made his stomach turn. Loki didn't deserve this, didn't deserve to keep being stolen away and broken. He may have been a bad guy once, but he was good, he had good intentions, he was intelligent and witty and kind most of the time.
He hated that it had taken this for them to see how much help Loki had needed all along.
As they landed, he pushed his glasses up onto his nose, rising before Thor had the chance, pulling Loki into his arms, squeezing his hand gently where it fell next to his own. Loki was one of them now, at least in their own minds, and they took care of their own. He carried the taller man through to his room, not the infirmary, but to Loki's own room, where he would be most comfortable. He hadn't been in there before, always respectful of the others mans privacy and his strong issues with personal space. He felt they needed to give the Trickster a safe space when he needed alone time. Looking around now he noted that it was brighter than he expected, still associating the God with darkness and evil, if only subconsciously. The walls were a warm green, gold accentiny certain features of the room. There were plush chairs in the corner, ordered in by Tony for Loki to sit and read his books in. That was one of the first personal things they ever realized about the thin man. Loki loved books. Loved them more than anything else they could offer him. He drank in the knowledge from them day after day when allowed to, a light smile pulling at his thin lips as he read.
Bruce felt warm emotion pulling from within his chest as he thought of Loki happy, with his books. Now, he thought to himself, now I know how Thor feels. It's like having a baby brother to protect all the time.
He gently laid his precious burden on the bed, unclasping the fastenings on his clothes, gently easing the material covering his top half from him as he rolled Loki to lay on his side so they could access his wounds from both sides.
Displayed upon the Gods back was a myriad of vicious words, whip marks and small knife wounds, oozing blood, red and inflamed. Bruce felt green tinge his vision as he thought of those sick bastards doing this, laughing as they heard them from down the hall, approaching fast. Those cruel, vicious men had thought this was fun. A sport. Bruce started as Tony's hand was laid on his shoulder, his vision clearing immediately. He nodded to the frown on the others face, setting to work cleaning and bandaging. It was quiet, cheerless work, with little to distract them from the horrific sight that was their friends body.
Unseen to them, Loki's eyes started to glow.
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