I feel myself shift uncomfortably in the bed. Even though I know the nightmares are only just that, they still terrify me. A swinging blue flame and burning rod against my backside, and—

I scream.

In the dream, I think—until a pair of arms shake me awake. "Cerys!" I hear a familiar voice, and I open my eyes to see a black shadow hovering above me.

Loki? No—Thor. Someone flips the light switch in the corner of the room, and I squint at the subsequent flash of light, still swaying atop the soft bed. Steady hands calm me, until I'm no longer moving, simply looking around the room.

"Are you alright?" Thor asks, and his heavy breath cools my dampened cheeks.

I'd been crying—I hadn't even realized that in the dream, but I'd been crying. I look over to see Heimdall near the door, lowering his hand from the light switch.

"Heimdall," I breathe out, and his brows knit together.

"Lady Cerys," he says in a deep, compassionate voice. "Happy to see you awake.

"Cer?" I hear another, softer voice, just as I'm about to respond.

My eyes jump to the slightly opened door behind him, and Pepper stumbles into the room. My face hardens, and by the tension that flickers in her jaw, I know she notices the change. Her lips part reluctantly as she gathers her hands in front of her.

"How… how are you feeling?" she asks, and I simply stare wordlessly. Tony appears in the doorway behind her, glancing at us both. "Are… Are you feeling okay?" she tries again.

I look between them for a moment, and tears betray the coldness in my expression as they pool in my lower eyelids.

Pretty soon, I can't hold it in any longer, and my lip trembles as I address her. "You two…" I pause. "Did you know?" I ask, my voice barely a whisper.

Silence.

"Know what." Tony asks flatly. Not aggressively—rather, searchingly.

"Did you know about…. this? Did you know that there were people after me?"

Pepper hardly moves, aside from pressing her lips together and casting her eyes downward. I shake my head, "You knew, didn't you?" my voice trembles. "You were… Was this a job?"

Thor's hands slowly remove themselves from my shoulders as he pulls away, clearing the space between myself and Pepper.

Pepper shakes her head, closing her eyes as tears fall from them before looking back up at me with a nod. "I was… I am your friend."

"That doesn't answer my question," I interject, and she blinks surprisedly at me. "But it sounds like an answer anyway—you knew, didn't you? Why didn't you tell me!? You knew that people were after me, you knew what I was somehow, didn't you? And you didn't say anything!?"

"She wanted to," Tony mumbles, stepping forward. "We both did, but… They didn't want us to."

"Who, S.H.I.E.L.D?"

"Yes," he says. "I'm sorry Cerys. We—"

"You should've told me!" I snap at them. "I wouldn't have walked home alone, I would've waited if I thought… Do you have any idea what they did to me!?" I exclaim, and Pepper turns away—her face contorting a bit.

Tony glances at her before looking back at me solemnly. "We know."

I lean back a little, turning my attention to Thor. "Where's Loki?"

"Asleep," he says. "He's remained so as long as you have, he's still recovering from the…" his voice trails off.

"From the giant, flaming shit that attacked us?" I respond aggressively, looking at Tony and Pepper. I open my mouth to tell them to leave, but the sight of tears streaming down Pepper's cheeks punches an unexpected hole in my chest—placing a brick wall against my heart's intent to kick them out, despite the anger accompanying it in my chest.

I shake my head instead, feeling hot tears stream down my own cheeks. Is this why she was always so loving and generous toward me? Did all the secrets guilt her and Tony into it?

"Cerys," says Thor, and I look over to meet his intent expression. "Tony and Pepper are the reason we managed to return you home. Heimdall," Thor turns his head and glances back at him. "heard your call—but without their help, we would never have made it through those defenses. They worked tirelessly—even S.H.I.E.L.D has nary managed to accomplish such a feat."

I drag my eyes up to them, seeing Tony lay a hand on Pepper's shoulder. She hooks her hand over her elbow as they both peer back at me. As much as my anger wishes I wouldn't, I feel the sincerity in the room. In Thor's voice, their expressions. I feel it—the regret and sorrow for what I had to endure.

Tension seeps away from my cheeks and forehead as I give a subtle, understanding nod. My lips open and close a few times as I try to figure out what to say.

"Can…" I finally start, but the sound barely escapes me as more than a whisper. "Can you guys leave us alone for a little bit?" I say, looking up at Pepper.

She peers at me sadly, pausing for a moment before nodding to Tony.

"Come on, guys," he says to the others, and I exchange glances with Thor and Heimdall as they ready to leave.

We wait, watching them shut the door behind them before returning our attention to each other. Pepper sways in place for a moment before turning toward me slowly, and her shoes thump loudly against the floor as she strolls around the bed, and sits on the edge of the mattress.

"I never wanted this to happen," she says. "You've got to know that."

"I think I do. I just… I have to know if all of this—if everything you've ever done—did it mean anything, or was it all just part of the job?"

"Of course it did," she says, and I can see the tears building in her eyes once more as she rotates slightly against the bed, lifting her knee onto it. "You're still my best friend. Tony's. And we should've told you. I saw the burn marks on your back," her voice breaks. "I never thought you'd through something like that…"

I peer at her sullenly as her voice trails off. "How's Loki?" I ask in a quiet voice.

Pepper blinks, wiping away the small streams that managed to escape the corners of her eyes. "He's fine, he… He has some burns too, but they started healing by the time we got back."

"How long have we been back?"

"Just a day," she murmurs.

"Okay," I breathe out. "So he'll be okay, too?"

"Yeah," she nods. "I think he… I don't know, he was really upset when you disappeared."

I lift my head slowly. "Upset how?" I ask, feeling the tension drain slowly from my voice as we converse—barely scraping the surface of how we did before all this happened.

Pepper shakes her head. "He just… he lost it. Almost put a dent in the suit when he found out about all this, if you know what I mean."

"Did the others know, about all this?"

"No," she says. "Just me and Tony."

"And…" I pause, almost afraid to ask the question. "Who asked you to do this?"

"Director Fury," Pepper answers without hesitation. "You popped up on S.H.I.E.L.D's radar at last year's show. They didn't see any intervention as necessary, but he knew we'd met, so… he asked us to keep an eye on you."

"I see," I say. "So that's… Is that why S.H.I.E.L.D was at the show this year? They were watching me too?"

"Yeah," she says softly.

I nod. "Is there anything else I need to know?"

She blinks, casting a glance down to the blanket before looking back up to me. "No, not that I can think of."

"Okay." I pause. "Does anyone know when Loki might wake up?"

"I don't think so," she says. "At least, no one told me."

I bob my head slightly, and silence passes between us for a moment.

"I guess I'll just…" she pauses. "Let you get some rest."

"Yeah… that's probably a good idea.".

Movement flickers in the corner of Pepper's lip, giving somewhat of a melancholy grin as she lifts herself off the bed and heads toward the door.

She stops, looking back at me as her hand rests against the wood of the door. "We're really glad you're okay," she says. "It wouldn't be the same around here without you."

I stare at her for a moment, feeling a lump grow in my throat as I look down at the blanket—pulling it forward as I lay back against the pillows. In the bottom half of my vision, I see Pepper stretch out an arm, flicking the light switch before shutting the door behind her.

I guess I shouldn't have expected to get sleep. Of all the traumatizing experiences I've endured these past few months, have I ever managed to get sleep afterward? As relaxing as it is to lay in this warm, dark room, my eyes have stayed wide open for several hours now—forcing my brain to relay the images of everything that happened.

The creature, Alastair, the experiments… And Loki. His blood leaking onto me from his shoulder, his face contorting with pain…

I blink away the image, turning my toward the window. It's the only source of light in the room, save for the alarm clock on the nightstand beside me. The numbers are glowing brightly—2:13 AM. I let out a heavy sigh, feeling frustrated at the amount of time I have left before the night is over.

A door opens in the hallway.

I turn my head back toward the sound, and sit upright in the bed. The heavy blanket folds at my waist as I listen intently—whoever's up has just gone to the bathroom. I wait a few minutes for them to come back out, and listen for the direction of the footsteps.

Right. Loki's room is to the right—maybe he's awake?

I grab the corner of the blanket and toss it to the side, sliding off the mattress in my silk tank top and pajama pants as I make a beeline for the door. I take the doorknob and turn it slowly—careful not to make any excess noise. The hallway is dark, except for a light pouring into it through one of the empty thresholds—Loki's. His door is open.

My feet shuffle quietly over the rug as I approach the doorway, carefully leaning over the edge and peering inside the room.

I don't think I've ever seen it before—though it's simple in ways that I might've expected. A simple dresser, a closet, and a bed. Loki's bed, with a nightstand beside it. He himself is sitting atop the mattress, leaning over his elbows—which are perched against his knees—and rubbing his forehead with his fingers.

My breath hitches in my throat when I realize he isn't wearing a shirt. But not because of the sheer sight of him, no… His shoulder; it's rippling with scars that don't look like they've fully healed yet. I grimace slightly, and my chest tightens—it must have been painful.

I step out from behind the doorway, and his brows lift with the rest of his gaze up to me in a quick movement. His hand remains suspended in the air where he'd been rubbing his brows, but whatever he's thinking wholly disappears behind a mask of calm as he straightens up on the corner of his bed.

I swallow hard. "Hi," I whisper.

Tension tugs at my chest as his eyes flicker over me. "Hi," he responds quietly—tonelessly.

I take a step forward, into his room—slowly. I don't think I've ever seen anyone go into his room except for him, and I wouldn't be surprised to find out that no one else knows its arrangement. I know it's not the case, since there must've been someone coming in here to check on him, but still—it wouldn't surprise me if he kept his door locked all this time.

"How're you feeling?" I saunter over to him, hooking a hand over my elbow as I look down at his shoulder—fighting back the rising impulse to reach toward it in some gesture of help, or comfort at the very least.

"I'll survive," he responds pointedly. "How are you feeling?"

I shrug. "Small victory that I'm still feeling, I guess."

Loki continues staring up at me, the light from his window casting a shadow across half of his face. I gesture to his arm, "Is that going to be okay?"

He glances at it and nods. "It already is."

I bob my head slightly, taking a step back—my heart thumping against my chest. "Okay," I whisper. "Well I just… wanted to come and check on you. And to say thank you, for coming to get me. It was…" I pause, and Loki's eyes narrow as he peers at me. "Just… Thank you for doing that. You're a good friend," I nearly choke on the word.

Loki's brows knit together, almost confusedly—like I'd just called him some obscene name for no apparent reason. I turn to leave, but stop at the doorway, looking back at him for a moment. The look in his eyes turns to uncertainty, and flares to a keen blankness as I turn and walk back toward him.

His eyes widen slightly as I bend in front of him, leaning one hand on my knee as I take his face with the other, and press my lips against his warm cheek. My heart thuds against my chest as I pull back slowly, letting my lips drag slightly against his faint stubble. His face is blank—if not slightly uncertain—as I straighten up in front of him.

"I'm really glad you're okay," I murmur.

He says nothing as I step away again, only parts his lips slightly. A man of few words in tense situations I suppose, or maybe he's just tired, and wants to be left alone. I don't have the willpower to ask, or to push him to talk to me—not now. In as much as the impulse tore through me for a brief instant to throw myself over him, push him down against the bed and press my lips against his… I couldn't. I couldn't even find the courage to stand before him much longer, with his eyes on me like that.

After all he's had to endure because of me, the pain and injury… I'm not too sure how long I would've even been allowed to stay in his room. His expression was completely and utterly unreadable, and it stripped away whatever confidence I had left to offer any kind of friendship or affection to him. How else could I possibly approach him? What else could I possibly say to someone that endured that kind of injury because of me? It's the furthest thing that a friend would cause—a liability, maybe.

I close the door behind me as I return to my room, and walk over to the bed—feeling sullen. Guilt twinges in my chest—but it doesn't manage to linger long, before the sound of a door closing in the hallway makes me snap back to the one I'd just stepped away from.

Not a moment later, it opens again, and Loki appears in the threshold, still sporting the expression of icy calm as he steps quietly into my room, and shuts it silently behind him.

My pulse skyrockets, and my eyes widen as I watch him glance down at the ground, and then pointedly up at me. Utter, deafening silence hardens around us for a moment, and I almost step back as Loki straightens up and stalks toward me—closing the space between us quickly.

His hands fly out and cup each side of my face, and I gasp before his lips crash into mine—capturing my breath. I snake my arms between his hands and wrap them around his shoulders, ripping my lips away for a moment to glance at his shoulder worriedly. As though he'd read my thoughts, Loki reaches up and grabs my shoulder from the back, pressing me harder against him—as though assuring me that it doesn't cause him any pain.

His breath fans my cheeks as I pull him in, thoughts wheeling through my mind as I tangle my fingers in his hair, trying to get closer—closer and closer—until I'm certain he can feel my heart pounding against his own ribcage.

Loki…

He was furious that I'd been taken. Went into that place for me, protected me—let his body burn and bleed for me. This man, holding me and caressing me…

Something inside me snaps, and I pull away slightly—still panting, and keeping a hand on his bare chest as my eyes narrow lovingly at him. I take his arm and pull him in, pivoting as I shove him against the bed. Ordinarily, I know I could never push him on my own, but moves and falls easily against the edge of the mattress—all too agreeable to end up where he is, sitting on the corner of it and gazing up at me.

I don't hesitate for a moment, too much of me is screaming and clawing to be close to him again. I lay a knee on the mattress beside him, and push him back against the blanket with my weight—laying flat atop him, and sliding my leg against his side as I slide it up over the edge of the bed.

My face dampens as my hands slide up and down the sides of his face and neck, catching a few hair strands as I invade his mouth. Loki's hands travel up and down my waist as his tongue caresses mine sensually, and I press my entire frontside against his—inhaling sharply through my nostrils as I feel him harden underneath me.

The sound seems to snap whatever leash Loki had on himself as well, and he tears the back of my tank top, until it's nothing but a little cloth that slips off my arms seamlessly. Strong hands press against the small of my back as Loki sits upright, and lifts a hand to grasp my neck—grabbing some hair in the process, and pulling it back gently as his lips worship my neck. Not aggressively, though—not by the gentle, yet firm way that the entirety of his cheeks and jaw join with the brushing, passionate movement of his lip.

I lower my chin, prompting him to kiss me again. Loki's free hand drops down to the mattress as he attempts to turn me over onto it, but I pull back and grab his strong shoulder.

My other hand finds its way back to the crook of his neck. "No," I breathe simply against his lips as I push him back down against the bed.

Loki peers up me, his pale eyes heavy and sunken with desire, and an approving grin tugs on the corner of his damp lips. I push off the bed for a moment, grabbing my pajama pants with my toes and pulling downward—scraping them downward with my fingers at the top, and letting them fall to the ground as I kick them away.

Loki props himself up on his elbows, and his eyes widen slightly as he takes in the sight of me—nose crinkling a bit as passion flares in them. He tugs at his pants, and I barely have to give them a pull as I climb on top of him.

Our mouth smack quietly—sensually—as I pull away from the caress of his tongue. "Loki," I mutter against his damp lips, letting my power surge and glow with the effect I know it has on him.

Movement ripples through Loki's brow as he opens his eyes heavily, letting out several heavy breaths. His nose crinkles after a moment. "Again," he murmurs, and I grin as my hand slides down the length of his torso. His breath hitches as I position myself over him.

"Say my name," he mumbles, a little louder this time—a little more desperate.

I press against him slightly—holding him in place as I run my lips along his jaw. "Loki," my throat nearly vibrates with magic as I say it again, and smile as he lets out another breath—shutting his eyes tightly and knitting his brows together slightly, as though taking in every single bit of the sound. I know it's magic now—even I can feel it surging between us.

His hands, which were strong and demanding just moments ago, glide lovingly against my skin as his expression relaxes. Soft, gentle lips caress my own. Still pressing against the length of him, I slide my lips off him and let out a quiet breath, letting need fill every note of my quiet voice as I slide down the length of him abruptly.

I love you—the words almost escape me.

Loki groans sharply—letting more of the sound slip out than he'd intended—and he pants as he stiffens against me.

"Gods…" he whispers in a deep, hollow breath.

I capture his lips with mine, devouring the sound as I rock my hips against him slowly, pressing down and gripping the sheets so tightly, that my knuckles turn white as the sheets themselves.

I peer heavily into his emerald eyes, which narrow as he pulls me in to deepen the kiss once more. Through every movement and caress, I take in what he must've thought—what he must have felt while I was gone. And then, when he knew where I was… he was determined.

And thank goodness for the obscene sturdiness of this bed, which hardly makes a sound as our bodies writhe in unison, and pleasure builds beneath my navel. I pant heavily as the pleasure builds and builds—growing limp in the instant that release sends me over the edge. I pause only for a moment, before laying a trembling hand on his shoulder and lifting myself upright to rock against him. I raise my hands up to lift the hair off my wet skin, stretching to my full length above him. His hands trail up the sides of my waist, and grip me tightly in the middle.

"Gods, I can't…" I hear him whisper, and I smile as I bite my lower lip, pressing down as I rock harder against him. Loki instantly grips my sides tightly and closes his eyes, groaning as he finds his own release. I capture his lips with my own—devouring the sound.

We pause mid-movement, our lips moving gently against each other as our shared panting dies down—the beads of sweat along our skin cooling slowly.

When I finally slide off of him, we lay there quietly beside each other for a few minutes, staring up at the dark ceiling. I look over at Loki when he finally sits up, propping himself against an elbow as he shifts to his left—facing me.

He parts his lips to speak, but movement barely manages to ripple through his jaw as his brows rise pointedly. I smile—understanding the unspoken words—and take his face with my nearest hand, pulling his heavy weight back atop me for another kiss.

He stays with me for the rest of the night.