Stephen watched from where he was sitting at the window as Loki finally finished the last of his supper. "Good?"

Loki shrugged, and licked his thumb clean. "I don't really see the point of eating since most of it will likely end up on the floor by the time this night is over."

"Beats going to bed hungry."

"My gut is a pit of snakes nowadays, Strange." Loki tried to rub the knots away, he was so tense. "Hunger is most welcome, actually."

Instead of magicking the mess away, Loki took his time cleaning up after himself and spent the next few minutes pottering about the room in an attempt to distract himself momentarily from what was about to come, even when he knew it was not likely to calm him down by any significant measure.

Stephen watched as Loki fidgeted his way from one end of the room to another.

"I know this isn't easy for you." Stephen wrapped his hands around his mug of steaming hot coffee. It was going to be a long night ahead. "Letting someone else get inside your head."

"I've done it to enough people." Loki wrung his hands. He stopped his pacing. "Shouldn't complain, really."

"Besides I'm not letting just anybody in, am I." Stephen only barely managed to lift his mug into the air before he suddenly found himself gloriously burdened by a lapful of Loki, nearly spilling piping hot coffee all over them both. "Only you."

"You wouldn't hurt me." At Loki's plea, phrased somewhere between a semi-optimistic statement and a yearning question, it irked Stephen to think that Loki even needed to ask –

"Never."

Loki leaned down and Stephen reared his head to meet him half-way. He savoured the taste of horseradish on Loki's lips. "Mmm. Spicy."

Loki licked his lips. Stephen always liked his coffee sweet and comfortingly creamy. "Mmm. Nutty."

"You ready?" Stephen ran his hand up and down Loki's tense back.

"Are you ready?" Loki tilted his head. "To go up against the monsters in my head?"

Stephen stared at Loki's lips, still slightly swollen and red from hot sauce.

"There's something I want to get off my chest first." Loki's weight was crushing him but the feel of the heavy, warm body against him was damn reassuring and he relished in it for he would not have Loki any other way but in his arms, safe and alive.

He met Loki's discomfited gaze head-on. "I can't promise I won't say this more than once, for as much as I hate repeating myself, I have to take into account your propensity to deliberately forget things when it comes to you and me."

And in the blink of an eye, Stephen had them both transported onto the bed, their positions changed with Loki now pinned beneath him. He sealed his lips over Loki's mouth to catch the sudden gust of breath as Stephen pushed his weight down against his chest and belly.

"You forget that I love you."

Trembling hands reached to stroke the upper half of Loki's face, thumbing away the creases of worry and distress from the finely sculpted eyebrows. "You forget that I will risk anything, do anything in my power to save you, and our son."

Loki's eyes softened.

"And you forget that I am a badass sorcerer and can pretty much do anything you can."

Loki opened his mouth to interject, but Stephen effectively muzzled him with a stolen kiss. "Except for that weird translocation spell where you change places with another person because that is just tricky and unpleasant and I can never be sure we haven't swapped kidneys or something."

" - you were taking too long with the finkydiddling and I was…squirrely-"

"Interrupt my love confession one more time, Odinson, and I will never let you ride me again. You may look skinny but you're heavy."

As if remembering that he himself was crushing his lover with the full weight of his body, Stephen rolled off to the side but was quick to slip an arm around the back of Loki's neck and shoulders, pulling him in.

"Okay, okay. Please, continue." Loki let out a little happy sigh, and snuggled in closer.

"And can't you just say horny like a normal person? But anyway, what I'm trying to say is…"

Stephen's fingers stopped playing with the hair at the nape of Loki's neck.

"You need to give me a chance." Stephen felt Loki stiffen instantly in his arms. He tightened his grip as he reiterated, "I just want to be given a chance."

"I don't want to be the last to know because by then it might just be too late." Stephen kissed Loki on the forehead long and deep. "I can't kill you myself if you're already dead."

Loki stared deep into his eyes, right into the depth of his soul. "Stephen…"

"Every waking day I see you off. You kiss me goodbye and I let you go." Loki reached up and ran a thumb along Stephen's lower lip. "And yet, my heart breaks when you're not here, and I can't, Stephen."

His face crumpled. "I can't ask that of you. I can't let myself be that – selfish person anymore."

"The moment you placed Stian in my arms, I knew." Loki's fingers curled around the greying hair at his temple. "That it's not about me. Not anymore."

"You are so preoccupied with the notion that my being the Sorcerer Supreme means your having to give me up to the world," Stephen's voice was hard but his eyes were gentle. "But Loki, here's the thing."

He placed a warm hand against Loki's, pinning it to the side of his face. "You are my world."

Loki's eyes welled.

"Between the Earth and you?" Stephen's countenance hardened in his conviction. "It might be that I can only save one of you, or neither of you. But it also goes without saying if I can save both, then by God I will."

"The seven billion people on Earth may have their claim on the Sorcerer Supreme, but this?" Claiming it as his own, he placed Loki's palm down against his chest, "This mortal heart? It belongs only to you."

"I am yours, Loki."

Stephen could not remember the last time he ever begged anyone for anything, let alone for love –

"See me."

Yet no words had ever slipped more easily from his mouth.

"Love me. Freely."

And like magic, the tension drained away from Loki's tense, rigid form.

"Oh my." His green eyes shone, glistening with emotions. His face much brighter, he gave Stephen one of his rare, open smiles, teeth and all. "Did you and Thor have a sit-together over this? You sound awfully similar."

"Really. We're finally having a moment and you bring your brother into this."

"You should thank him, really. He paved the way for you, made me all mellow and occasionally well-balanced inside." Loki made a slight face. "In the olden days they sacrificed wives, daughters and children in worship of me. You gave me a sandwich."

Stephen harrumphed. "It was a perfectly good sandwich."

"What a marvelous love story," Loki muttered under his breath, but the gentle smile remained on his face. "Right out of Extreme Cheapskates."

"I gave you a baby," Stephen murmured. He palmed the taut contours of Loki's abdomen and began to knead the lean muscles underneath. "Loki, when this is all over…"

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Oh, let's."

Loki gently pried Stephen's hand off his belly. "Stephen, we nearly lost our son today."

"I can't think of replacing him with another." He shook his head vehemently, close to tears again. "Not yet."

"That's not what I –" Stephen's lips clammed. "Alright, Loki. I'm sorry."

He sighed heavily and made as if to run a hand through his hair, before staying his palm on his forehead, eyes solemn with regret. "Guess I just couldn't stop thinking about the promise I made to you."

Loki sounded strangely timid. "Which one?"

"To give you as many children as you wish so you wouldn't forget me when I'm gone." Stephen's eyes were downcast. "But now that I've come close to losing you again, I'm beginning to wonder if it's not the other way around."

"Death is closer to all of us than you think, Strange. I will not bind you to me just because it might come for me before it does you."

Loki cupped a hand over his cheek. "Love is finite. Love is mortal. You will find another."

"The lengths I am willing to go to just to prove you wrong might surprise you." A sleight of hand later and Stephen held out something that gleamed in the dark. "This is for you."

Loki stared at the gold object in Stephen's palm.

"So no one can ever trap you in the Mirror Dimension ever again."

"No."

"Take it."

"No, Strange, I can't possibly use this –"

"Thor was right when he said I could have done more to protect you when Mordo came after you. That I should have seen it coming."

That almost-fatal error in his judgement would always stay with him like a bad memory. "If I hadn't been so short-sighted, I could have taught you how to use it and you wouldn't have gone through…what you did."

Stephen shook his head, resolute. "I won't make the same mistake twice."

"But whose sling ring is this?"

"Doesn't matter, Loki."

Ignoring Loki's protests, Stephen slipped it onto Loki's ring and middle fingers. It fit perfectly. "It's just a ring. Standard issue."

Loki could smell a lie better than anyone. There was nothing ordinary about the ring. "Whose was it?"

"It's getting late, my dear."

Stephen saw the fear return to Loki's eyes and his heart sank.

"It's just a dream, Loki. It's not real."

Loki swallowed visibly.

"Now sleep." Stephen sealed his promise with a brush of his lips against Loki's. "I'll be here when you wake."

Loki gave a muted nod. He fiddled absently with the ring on his finger.

"I could have so much fun with this."

"Only when necessary, Loki."

"Like Mindspeak?"

"Just like Mindspeak."

A glum sigh.

"So you love me, huh?"

After a beat,

"Like Thor loved his hammer."

Loki barked a laugh and soon they were both chuckling until tears came to Loki's eyes and he buried his face into Stephen's chest without another word.

After a few minutes, exhaustion won out and Loki sagged, going completely limp.

Stephen listened as Loki's breathing evened out gradually, and silently started the mental countdown –

"Does this mean I have to get my own sandwich from now on?"

"Oh, for the love of – Sleep!"

It was near three in the morning when the saccadic movements underneath Loki's eyelids became rapid enough that Stephen was convinced Loki had finally entered REM sleep.

Laying his head down on the same pillow, Stephen threw Loki's sleeping profile one last look, placed a palm on the steady rise and fall of Loki's chest, and closed his eyes.

He opened them again.

He was now standing in Asgard's main dining hall. If he had not known this was a dream, he would have a problem convincing himself it was one, for everything was vivid and extremely-detailed, down to the colours of the retainers' clothes and the contrast of the inky blackness of the night outside the windows against the dim light of the chandeliers that cast great, slanting shadows, hiding some of the members of the floor from view, and bringing unwelcome attention to others.

When Loki said he had a good memory, he was not kidding, Stephen marveled. The sheer amount of memory space required to reenact the dreamscene was staggering. He could smell the strong scent of roasting meats and began to understand why Loki stayed away from them. Stephen never minded the great roasts of Asgard which happened to be the pride of Asgard's culinary masters, he even found them tantalizing at times, but tonight he simply found the odors sickening and unpleasant.

Sucks to be you, Loki.

In homage to Loki's supersonic hearing, Stephen half-listened to the strings of conversation from the tables where the high society of Asgard were gathered…but instead of the usual merry drinking and boisterous talks that Asgard's dinnertime was known for, the brouhaha was greatly subdued tonight.

For how could the men dare let loose their inhibition when their King looked as troubled and their Prince so sullen the very air hung stagnant and heavy over their heads like a dark cloud?

Stephen quickened his pace toward the High Table as Thor and Loki took their seats, adjacent, yet one had his head turned one way, and the other another.

Thor was the first to break the silence. "Brother."

"I am not talking to you, Thor." Stephen tutted inwardly at Loki's snappish remark. The discord between the two was apparent on the security video, but watching it unfold in front of him was an experience all on its own. Loki was pissed.

Stephen knew it was futile but he reached out with both his hand and his magic nonetheless. Yet neither seemed able to penetrate the wall between the dreamer and the traveler; Loki could not see him nor hear him nor feel his touch for Stephen's fingers passed through Loki's shoulder like a disembodied apparition.

"Right. Just here to observe," he muttered to himself. So that meant he was not going to be able to slip into the kitchens or walk the grounds outside. Or kill the bastard before he laced Loki's food with poison, just because he could.

Stephen's eyes roamed over every person who was sitting or waiting upon the High Table that night. If they were dealing with a shape-shifter, it could be anybody. It could be the Valkyrie standing behind Thor, looking bored out of her mind, yet ever vigilant and at the ready.

"You cannot ignore me forever, Brother."

"Watch me. I have always known you weren't the brightest of the bunch but of all the stupid, stupid things you could have done – "

Even the reflection of the back of Loki's head in the large decorative mirror on the wall behind the High Table looked angry, the line of his shoulders stiff and severe.

Loki scratched the air delicately and Einar stepped forward to hear Loki's request. Stephen watched his every move like a hawk but quickly discovered to his dismay that he could not follow him further beyond the service side door as Einar disappeared down into the kitchens.

Einar emerged minutes later, bearing a small silver tray in one hand and a platter of garnishes in the other. He placed them both momentarily on the trestle table and Stephen came closer until he was standing next to the young man. His heart leapt to his throat when his reflection did not appear in the mirror next to Einar, before he remembered that he was in someone else's dream and nearly laughed at himself.

He watched closely for anything suspicious as Einar carefully added some chopped parsley, oyster crackers and croutons into the bowl, yet there was no milk or cream in sight. Stephen followed him as he walked over to high table and placed the bowl in front of Loki. "Anything else I can get you, your Highness?"

Loki had both hands cupped over the sides of his face, looking all pinch-faced and headachy as he stared down at his bowl of soup. "No, thank you, Einar."

Einar collected the tray of garnish from the trestle and turned to leave. As he walked off the dais in the direction of the kitchen once more, Stephen pushed himself off from where he was leaning against the table, so abruptly his phantom hip would have knocked into Loki's elbow had he been corporeal –

Einar had long since left the hall but his reflection stayed in the mirror.

Impossible though he knew, Stephen could swear their eyes met and when the sneer began to curl the lips on the usually sweet, gentle-faced young man, Stephen felt his blood run cold.

Mirror-Einar stepped out, and to a passing eye it would seem as if he had been there all along. In his hand was a small pitcher.

"A splash of milk, my Prince?" he purred.

No. Stephen's face drained of colour.

Loki, no.

"Sure," he dimly heard Loki say.

And the poison-laced milk trickled innocently into its target.

If Loki's conscious psyche had not been so absorbed with the shitty day he'd had, not to mention the headache, Loki would not have been fooled…for Mirror-Einar was only Einar from the waist-and-elbow up.

What the mirror could not see it could not replicate.

The hands were an old man's hands, wrinkly and freckled. Yet the most unsightly thing about them were the dome-shaped, reddish nodules on his fingers, some crusted and some centrally ulcerated, much like badly infected, super-sized pimples.

Stephen's heart raced. The doctor in him recognised those lesions. It was textbook.

He looked down to look at the feet.

There were none.

An illusion? An astral projection? A full, able-bodied conjuration?

His mission accomplished, Mirror-Einar turned around – oh if Stephen could just wipe that smirk off his face – glided past him and disappeared once more into the realm of mirrors, back to its master.

"Loki, don't!"

And Stephen jolted himself awake. Disoriented, he ignored the weakness in his joints and clumsily palmed Loki's forehead.

"Loki, wake up." He commanded. Loki did not answer, his eyes still moving rapidly under his closed lids.

Stephen gritted his teeth. Dream-walking always left him so wiped out. He blinked hard to chase the light-headedness away. "Loki, listen to my voice. You need to wake up, now!"

With a gasp, Loki's body jerked and he thrashed, his flailing arms nearly striking Stephen in the face. "Hey, hey! You're okay! Loki, it's me!"

As consciousness slowly returned to Loki's blank and unseeing eyes, they began to fill, and his hand flew to his throat, his voice hoarse with phantom screams and tears as he croaked, "Stephen."

Stephen threw his arms around him and embraced him fiercely as Loki chanted over and over, "Thank you, thank you –"

"Whatever for?" Stephen palmed the back of Loki's head as Loki buried his face into his shoulder. He could feel the wetness seep through his T-shirt.

"You pulled me out," Loki breathed out. His heart was still racing like a mad horse. "You pulled me out."

Stephen closed his eyes and planted a fierce kiss on the side of Loki's head. "Always."