It was bright day in New York City. Tony Stark was in his lab, working on a new chemical formula with Bruce. Thor was napping on the couch in the lobby. Queen Frigga had gone home, only an hour ago. Clint and Natasha were off on a mission, and Steve was in his room, sketching. Loki sat, very alert, on the couch, next to Thor.

He knew Thor was asleep; his brother had told him he was going to take a nap, and was now snoring enough to shake the windows. Loki appreciated all that Thor had done for him. It touched him to be so sure that someone out there cared enough about him to take care of him, to dote on him as much as Thor did.

But it kind of got old, really fast.

Loki wasn't any less of a person, now. Sure, he was disabled, but he could feed himself, clothe himself, and walk around. It took him a bit longer than most people, but the way Thor babied him, literally spooned food into his mouth, and tucked him in at night was rather belittling. Loki wasn't a child.

Stubbornly, he got to his feet, and began feeling his way around the room, just to prove himself right. Hesitantly, he fumbled around the couch, the coffee table, and the little table next to them. Not a single stubbed toe, or scraped shin. Emboldened by his success, he set out, arms outstretched before him, to try to find a wall.

He didn't realize he was headed straight for the tower's doors.

He didn't realize the doors were automatic, and would open without him ever realizing they were there.

He didn't realize he was outside, or when he stepped off the sidewalk.

So, it came as quite a shock when the car hit him.

Thor was awoken with a start to the sound of the screech of tires and the blare of a car horn. Directly followed by the most sickening thud he'd ever heard in his life. Immediately, he jumped to his feet, his eyes darting around the room for his brother. Loki was nowhere to be found.

There was the sound of a car door slamming, and Thor turned to look through the floor-to-ceiling windows at the front of the building. To his horror, there was Loki, sprawled out on the street, terrifyingly pale and still, his head bleedingly profusely, and his arm bent at an odd angle.

"Brother!" He gasped, bolting through the doors, and kneeling down beside Loki's limp body. "Oh, Loki…" Thor felt suddenly sick. Why had Loki wandered out of the tower? Why hadn't Thor been watching him?

"Sir, I am so sorry!" A girl spoke up, her hands covering her mouth, and eyes wide with shock. "I was going too fast to stop in time, and I don't think he even saw me coming."

Thor turned and stared dumbly up at her.

Loki hadn't seen her coming. There was no way he could've.

"I swear, it was an accident!" The girl insisted, pulling out her strange cellular device. "Here, I'll call an ambulance for him."

"No." Thor finally found his tongue. "No, that's fine. I can care for him."

"But…" She protested. "I think his arm's broken. And he might have a concussion! No offense, but I think it'd be better to let the doctors help him."

Thor shook his head, gathering Loki's inert form into his arms. "Thank you, my lady. That won't be necessary."

The girl's eye's widened in shock. "Wait, you're Thor?"

"Indeed." Thor adjusted his hold on his brother, and stood up quickly.

"Wait, so if he's your brother…"

Thor didn't stay to hear the rest of what the Midgardian woman had to say. In burning terror, he turned, and stormed into the tower.

Just as he entered the lobby, the elevator doors opened, and Steve and Tony burst out. "Jarvis told us what happened, is he okay?" Steve demanded.

"I know not." Thor pressed his lips together. "Where must I take him?"

"Med bay." Tony quickly informed. "Thirty-second floor. Bruce is getting his medical stuff ready, already."

Thor stepped into the elevator. Loki hadn't even so much as twitched since the accident. Tony took a gentle hold of his good wrist, and gently, yet insistently, began tracing out some sort of message to the Trickster.

Loki didn't even blink. He was breathing, Thor realized with a sigh of relief. He was breathing, so he was going to be alright. He's lived through worse. The dungeons, for instance.

The elevator doors opened, once more, and Bruce hurried forward to help Thor lay his brother down on a clean, white bed.

Vaguely, Loki stirred, as Bruce began cleaning the cut on his head. Thor felt a leap in his chest, and knelt down, cupping Loki's cheek with one hand. After a few agonizing seconds, Loki's eyes fluttered open, staring sightlessly at the ceiling.

"Th-Thor?" He asked in a weak, shaky voice, wincing when Bruce touched his head, again.

I'm here, Thor traced onto his cheek, and Loki moved to feel him, then winced sharply. "Thor… my arm… hurts…"

"Tell him it's broken." Bruce said in a clipped, professional voice.

Broken, Thor complied.

"Wha-What happened?" Loki's voice trembled in pain, as Bruce began wrapping his head in gauze.

You were run over by a Midgardian vehicle.

Loki winced, and whimpered slightly, as Bruce began effectively cutting off his sleeve to treat his arm.

Why were you outside? Thor wondered, tears spilling out of his eyes.

"I didn't mean to…" Loki whispered, biting at his lip until it drew blood. "I'm sorry… I thought… I thought I hadn't left the tower."

Thor was frozen in shock. Loki hadn't even realized he'd left! It was those confounded robotic doors!

"I'm sorry…" Loki grit his teeth in agony as the doctor continued work on his arm.

You're forgiven. Thor assured him. It wasn't your fault.

Loki smiled softly, before wincing, again. "Thor, it hurts!" He whimpered, his good hand feeling around on the bed's mattress.

Thor took his brother's hand to reassure him, squeezing it gently.

"He's okay?" Tony had stuck around, wringing his hands nervously.

Thor looked down at Loki's drawn, pale face. "He will be."

A few hours later, Thor and Loki sat together on their bed, saying nothing, simply feeling each other's nearness, and taking comfort from each other. Thor couldn't believe he'd been such a knucklehead that he'd allowed Loki to simply wander away. Into traffic, no less. Now Loki's head was bandaged, his arm in a plaster cast, his ribs bruised, and he was obviously dazed, and in a lot of pain.

Thor gazed into his little brother's pinched, forcedly neutral face, regret welling up in him. He was supposed to protect Loki, and where was he when the Trickster actually needed him? Asleep. Snoring his life away on the couch.

Loki carefully felt, with his left hand, to make sure Thor was still there, and the Thunderer patted his hand in a reassuring gesture. Loki need not worry. Thor would never leave his brother unattended, again.

Gently, he patted Loki's dark locks, smoothing them, and being sure to stay away from where he knew the nasty gash to be, just below his hairline, over his right eyebrow. His entire left half was painful from road rash, and his right bruised from the impact. Thor swallowed the lump of remorse, and it curled in his stomach like a poison.

Loki sat there, feigning indifference, yet obviously very grateful for the comfort. Leaning into Thor's touch ever so slightly, he closed his eyes in content.

They sat there for a few minutes more, before Loki crawled to the edge of the bed, feeling with an outstretched arm through the emptiness for the nightstand. After a few seconds of blind groping, he finally located it, picked the book Thor had been reading to him off of it, and pressed it into Thor's hands. Well, collarbone, but it was obviously meant to be hands. He glanced up at his brother with the most hopeful, pleading looking his eye Thor had seen since Anthony had opened the container of soup, the first day, back in the lab. It had been three weeks, but it felt more like a few hours.

Thor gently settled Loki against his chest, readied his brother's left hand, and flipped the book open to the chapter they'd left off at.

Loki contentedly sighed, a small smile gracing his face as he soaked in the story.

When Thor had finished the chapter a few hours later, Loki's eyelids were drooping, and he'd curled into Thor's chest, his breathing heavy and slowed.

Thor pressed a kiss to his forehead, (the unbandaged bit) and tucked him in under the soft coverlet. Draping an arm protectively around the slim form of the Trickster, Thor settled in for sleep, himself.

The next morning, Loki was awakened by a Something, a soft Something, that was tickling his nose. Blearily, he sat up in confusion, feeling around the mattress for his brother. Thor's hand closed over his, and Loki tilted his head in confusion. A small body bumped against his torso, and a soft pressure became known, pressing gently against his ribs. Loki reached exploratory fingers down to investigate, only for them to smacked by something tiny, and soft. The Something moved onto his lap, and furrowed his brow in concentration. What was this thing? Ticklish little pressures kneaded his knees, and he realized that whatever it was, it was alive.

Again, he felt at it in eager curiosity. Its soft fur slid between his fingers, and Loki traced his fingers over the creatures' head. A tiny tongue lapped at his fingers, and Loki lifted it up in his hands, making sure to support its tiny ribcage and pelvis.

It was a kitten. A rather small kitten, and a curious one, too. Loki held the little ball of softness to his cheek in wonder, and it batted at Loki's hair. The Trickster released a surprised giggle, and lowered the kitten back to his lap, where it began kneading his leg, again.

Do you like her? Thor asked.

Loki nodded emphatically, mouth dropped into an awed "o". "What's her name?"

You decide.

Loki petted the little animal gently, deep in thought. "What color is she?"

Black, green eyes.

Loki nodded thoughtfully. "Like me."

Thor laughed, he could feel it through the mattress how it vibrated.

"Shadow." Loki decided.

A fine name.

Loki nodded. "Where did you get her?"

I didn't. He did.

Loki's eyes flew wide in fright. "He?" He gulped, scooting back against his brother. "Who?"

Another hand took Loki's, and traced out…

:)

"Barton?" Loki breathed. "You brought me…"

:)

Loki could have cried from frustration and glee. He had never expected that Barton would show him such a kindness. It boggled his mind what kinds of forgiveness the Midgardians were capable of. If anyone had a right to hold a grudge against Loki, it would be Barton. But, no. For some reason, Barton was showing him compassion, far beyond what he would have expected, even from a Midgardian he hadn't hurt, that he hadn't forced to do such horrifying things.

It was fascinating how such a simple gesture, could mean the world to a man, lost in darkness.

Shoutout to my lil bro for having the idea of both the cat, and Loki running away accidentally and getting hurt. Thanks, me hermano!

TheOnlyHuman.