Stephen had no idea where the portal would take them, but the moment he landed on the cold, hard floor he tucked himself into a tight roll around his son and only upon ramming into someone's feet and coming to a complete, hard stop, did he finally loosen his grip

"Stephen!" he heard Thor's voice, felt giant hands pawing his shoulders, hauling him upright, "Where have you been?! The wards in the nursery went off and Stian was gone! We feared you had gone missing!"

Stephen's head whipped up, realising that they were in Thor's private chambers.

"What the Hel happened to you?!" Valkyrie crouched down on one knee, and nearly toppled over backward when Stephen suddenly relinquished Stian into her arms.

"Take him, I need –" he wheezed, "I need, to get back –"

Stephen climbed his hands up Thor's arms and shoulders as he struggled to stand, not caring in the least for the look of bewilderment on the God of Thunder's face, he needed to get back on his feet, needed to get back to Loki –

"He's got Loki, I need to go back!"

Thor's form went rigid and he gripped Stephen's arms, hard. "Where is my brother?"

Stephen's eyes were wild. "Thor. Call – call Wong. Tell him to get Christine. Get Christine here."

Valkyrie tried to shush the crying Stian as best she could, rocking him against her chest. She glowered at his blood-soaked clothes, very much evident now that he was standing. "Are you wounded?" She demanded.

Stephen ignored her question. He placed both hands on his temples and scrunched his eyes closed, as though concentrating on a difficult mental task.

"He's not answering me."

When he opened his eyes again, they were stricken with fear and grief. He drew in a ragged breath, "This was all my fault."

Thor was seconds away from a titanic meltdown. "I will give you thirty seconds to explain everything, Strange, or so help me I will strike you."

Stephen gritted his teeth. "There is no time, Thor!" He grabbed Stian's head and kissed him hard on the forehead. "Guard him with your life, Valkyrie."

"Whu-Huh?" Flabbergasted, Valkyrie could only watch as Stephen staggered toward the center of the room. A ring of fire blazed to life, and she recoiled, holding Stian away from the heat of the portal.

She shouted to make herself heard, wherever it was on the other side, the blowing gale was deafening. "Where are you going?"

"To get Loki back!"

"I'm coming with you." Thor said gruffly, all bedecked in his battle armour, Stormbreaker at the ready.

"The Healing Hall, Valkyrie," were Stephen's last grim words. "Get it ready."

"You tricked me!"

"Oh, I tricked no one." Loki whispered, "You tricked yourself."

"You…you…" Orri seethed, his face twisted and ugly, the sheer heat of the dark magic rising off his back, stifling and suffocating, and the rotten smell of decay increased ten-fold. "But how -?!"

"You should have listened to every word, old man."

Loki's stomach roiled dangerously. He could feel the individual beads of cold sweat trickle down his back. He did not have much time, he needed to end this, quickly.

He cupped a hand over his neck where the magic blade had sunk its teeth, nice and clean just like Orri had promised. The blood flowed warm and free, cascading down his throat, "I never did say whose."

Orri's face white with fury. "Your life is mine, Odinson."

Loki tutted.

"Had you agreed when I first offered it, I would have given it freely and gladly. You have forfeited the right to my life the when you attempted to murder my family." Loki's head dipped slightly forward, as if listening to voices only he could hear. "Orri Sørensen."

Loki did not gloat at the utter surprise in the old man's face. He was only interested in one thing, and one thing only. "And for that, I will not let you live."

Orri barked a disbelieving laugh. "Have you forgotten? Your magic won't work against me, Little Prince."

"You bound only my seidr." Loki lifted his chin and stared with dead eyes. "You did not bind my blood."

With a snarl, Orri launched himself at him with his knives but Loki's hand left his throat to fan out a confetti of blood, sending it spattering across Orri's face. Loki uttered a word, harsh and sibilant, and Orri screamed, clawing his face as it sizzled like acid burns.

"This was your own undoing." Loki's voice was very patient, almost gentle.

Orri roared an unintelligible string of words to a spell, and blindly began slashing away at the carcass on the long table. His face fell when an unperturbed Loki remained standing, steadfast and unaffected.

"By your blade, you released my blood and thus freed it. For me to use as I will."

"Die, Loki!"

Enraged, Orri shot out an arm, and red globules of dark energy barrelled toward him one after another at lightning speed, but Loki needed only raise his hand to turn them around, and the energy balls careened, slamming into the dead animal, engulfing it in a roaring blaze. Black flames licked up and down, lashing along the table.

"You think you alone are well-versed in the ways of dark magic?" Loki asked coolly. "You may have been alive longer, Sørensen, but I have been doing this since the day I was born."

Loki's armour disappeared, revealing a pale torso that fast bathed in red; blood flowed in rivulets, seeping into his waist and down his legs.

What do Midgardians call this, a Catch-22 situation? he wondered darkly. He knew he was bleeding profusely and could very well die soon, yet left with no choice but to let the blood flow unchecked, lest the sacrifice the blood magic required be null and void.

He could not fail. He must not.

"I am Loki, Son of Odin."

With a trembling hand, Loki painted a sigil on his chest in his own blood, evoking a forbidden spell he had learnt by heart from a grimoire he had stolen long ago.

His eyes never wavered, as cold and blue as steel.

"Prince of Asgard."

For the first time, Orri showed the faintest glimmer of fear and he backed away. The one half of his face lit up in the glow of the burning table began to crumple.

"Mercy," he whispered, suddenly looking every inch the frail old man he was, behind all the grief and lust for failed revenge.

But Loki was no longer listening, the roar of blood in his ears too loud, too hungry. The sigil on his chest began to glow, emblazoned across his torso like a wildfire, red-hot and alive.

Loki closed his eyes as faces upon faces flitted across his mind's eye in a dizzying whirlpool of memories, cherished and abhorred and loved

Frigga. Odin. Thor.

"Mercy, my Prince." A sick whisper.

Stephen.

Stian.

No. No mercy.

Loki reopened them, empty and devoid of all pity. Orri deserved to look him in the eye after all, for there was no malice, no spite – only retribution.

"I condemn you to death," he whispered.

And everything around them erupted in flames.

Thor's first thought as he stepped out of the portal was that he had been transported back to Surtur's lair; the raging inferno around them obliterating everything within sight, the grass fields an ocean of fire against the blackness of the Scandinavian night sky.

"No…" Stephen whispered, aghast as he stared in horror at the barn, now completely engulfed in flames.

"Loki-!" And he ran.

"Strange!" Thor broke into a chase. The fire seemed to have a mind of his own, and it parted as Thor thundered his way through the burning field.

This was not Loki's magic, it did not feel like Loki's magic, but something darker, and much more sinister. Yet he could sense Loki's hand in it all the same -

And Stephen was running straight into the heart of the fire.

"Loki!"

"I curse you."

Orri's hand lay limp by his side, twitching and curling around strands of charred hay

"I curse you, Jotunn."

Blood swallows the sky

The wolf shall awaken true;

And as it devours the night

So shall it devour…you.

Loki closed his eyes.

Nothing mattered.

These were no ordinary flames.

Stephen's sentient magic wanted nothing more than to douse the flames but the intended purpose of Loki's invocation was as clear as the path in front of him as the fire parted to give him way.

To cleanse, therefore it must burn.

And thus, Stephen must let it burn.

"Loki!" Thor bellowed, his voice lost in the thunderous crackling of the fire.

"Your Majesty!" A faint voice called from the very far corner.

"Please," Yrsa sobbed. Her hands, slick with blood, kept her bundled-up cloak pressed against the side of Loki's neck.

Orri lay dead, a few steps away, eyes unseeing, knobbly hands curling into contractures in the heat of the flames as they licked ravenously up his still, broken body.

Thor wasted no time scooping his brother's body into his arms. "Quickly now, Strange!"

Debris and falling chunks of burning beams plummeted toward them –

Stephen grabbed Yrsa and Thor by the arm and prayed, to whichever God was listening

Give me strength.

The flurry of Healers around them were but white noise amid the pounding in his ears. The oxygen cannula was translucent against the stark pallor of Loki's skin, the only thing of colour in Stephen's line of vision right now was the red on the pillow, the red on the sheets, the red on his hands –

"The wound's not closing." Beads of perspiration dewed on his forehead as Stephen pumped even more magic into his healing spell, coaxing it to suture the torn tissue together, to stop the haemorrhage, to clot the blood but

"It's not closing." Dimly, he could hear the panic in his voice, he must not let it show, he knew he should not, but dear God there was too much blood.

"There's nothing…" Loki's eyes were closing but Thor palmed the side of his face and they jolted open again, in and out of focus. "Magic…blade.."

"Loki!" Thor shouted. "Open your eyes!"

Healers hung bags upon bags of blood all around them as they tried to restore what was already lost, but Loki was losing it as fast as they could give it. His blood pressure was plummeting, his heart rate had skyrocketed through the roof, his circulation was shutting down –

"I can fix this. I can fix this." Stephen knew he was babbling and he allowed it; the sheer panic may well have taken over his faculty of speech, but his brain was still clear, all hope was not lost, he knew he could do this. He had to.

The bleeding vessel was right there. If he closed his eyes, he could see it with his fingers.

He could fix this.

He was the Sorcerer Supreme.

He was also Doctor Stephen Strange, Surgeon Extraordinaire.

"I need my hands, Loki," he said urgently. "All I need is five minutes!"

Loki could no longer speak.

"You said…never again…"

"I take it back!" he said fiercely. "I take it back, damn you!"

"…don't know…how…long…"

"Thor, put your fingers here, put pressure on it!" Stephen grabbed Thor's hand and guided his large fingers through the wound in Loki's neck. To his credit, Thor did not appear squeamish in the slightest, only resolute and determined. "Don't let go until I say!"

Thor nodded wordlessly, his face pale underneath his golden tan.

Stephen then grabbed Loki's hands and gripped them to the sides of his face. He could smell the cloying scent of blood that must now be smeared all over his face but he paid it no heed, not when their only hope lay in the icy fingers in his grip. "My hands, Loki, please!"

"Loki, stay awake!" Thor roared, and slapped his other hand on Loki's chest, giving him a sharp, brisk jolt. Loki's eyes flew open and a gasp of new breath strengthened his resolve somewhat and his fingers began to glow a pale, watery green

Stephen felt the heat of Loki's magic warm his hands and he gripped Loki's hands tighter.

"That's it, Loki. Come on," Stephen encouraged him breathlessly.

Not caring in the least for watching eyes, he leaned down and fiercely kissed Loki deep, hard and desperate. Loki's lips were ice-cold. "Come on."

"I came as soon as I could." A red-haired woman burst in through the double doors of the surgical suite, barrelling in all guns a-blazing, "Stephen, what the hell happened?!"

Wong trailed close behind, his generous frame jiggling up and down, breathless with the effort to keep up.

Stephen was so overwhelmed with relief, he let out an involuntary sob. "Christine! Oh, thank God.."

"Your hands! They're okay?" She stuck her head out of the scrub room, scrubbing her hands furiously.

Stephen shook his head. "Temporary spell, I'll explain later."

And the first tremor began to jerk the fingers on his left hand. Stephen quickly shifted the retractor pulling back the flap of neck muscle into his right hand, his stomach twisting in dismay.

"I can feel the shakes coming back," Stephen urged breathily, "You need to take over, hurry!"

"Talk me through, Stephen." A Healer stepped in hurriedly to assist with her surgical gown and Christine snapped her sterile gloves on.

"Zone II laceration wound to the left neck, initial exploration with oblique skin incision along the anterior margin of the left sternocleidomastoid muscle revealed a severed left common carotid artery, spanning 70 percent circumferentially." Stephen gently nudged the incision apart with the one finger left that was not shaking to let her see.

"I've controlled the bleeding by clamping it proximally and distally, looks like we've only got one bleeder."

Christine dived right in, prodding the wound, lifting the artery forceps to study the two ends of the severed vessel which had been sutured half-way through.

Clean-cut. Someone had slit Loki's throat, she realised with a sudden shiver. "Estimated blood loss?" she murmured.

"Massive. Indeterminate, but massive."

"Internal jugular vein, intact." Christine allowed herself to exhale. "Left vagus nerve, intact. What did you use, Prolene 6-0?"

Stephen handed her the needle holder with the suture still attached.

"Sutured half way through. Can't continue." Christine stared at his hands that were shaking once more, but looked away after a fraction of a second, her eyes unreadable.

The relief in Stephen's eyes was unmistakable. "Just in the nick of time, Dr Palmer."

"You did good, Dr Strange. Beautiful suturing, as always." Her eyes welled.

The smile he hid behind his surgical mask was equally sad. "You're a lifesaver, Christine."

She sniffed, and blinked to clear the tears away. She could not speak so she nodded.

Stephen pulled himself away from the operating table to allow another Healer to step in to assist. He looked down at his hands. They were as good as useless now.

He could feel the adrenaline leaving him.

His vision blurred as he stole a glance at Loki, deeply unconscious, his face whiter than the sheet he was lying on. The only indication that his lover was still alive was the steady rise and fall of his chest.

Stephen had been the one to intubate him, after all.

"You'll be okay," he whispered. "You have to be okay."

His head swam. Suddenly the operating theatre was too bright. Too white.

"Dr Strange?" A Healer's face loomed over him, blooming in and out of focus.

His knees buckled, and a pair of strong, familiar arms caught him as he fell.

"Wong."

"I've got you, my friend."

"The internal damage is quite extensive." Wong's hands felt warm and heavy on his abdomen. His fellow Master sounded casual, but his eyes were worried. "What the hell did you get yourself into?"

"David and Goliath," Stephen murmured drowsily. The hum of healing magic was dangerously lulling him to sleep. "I thought I was David."

"This was not from a beating."

"It was voodoo." Loki's healing seidr, potent yet too brief, had stopped the active internal bleeding but it simply did not have time to repair the extensive soft tissue damage and torn bowels before he was

Taken.

No, not taken.

Stephen could not erase the image from his mind's eye. He was not sure if he wanted to.

Loki was not taken.

Loki gave himself up.

"He gave himself up."

Wong looked at him sharply.

Stephen's breath hitched in his throat as tears threatened to spill. He palmed his eyes to hide them. "Fucking idiot."

"Well, that idiot is finally out of the woods, more or less." A tired voice spoke up from the door.

Wong nodded but did not look up from his ministrations. "Dr Palmer."

"Loki?" Stephen said almost fearfully. "How is he?"

"Alive, for now." Christine sighed heavily, and sank into the chair on the other side of his cot. "Eight pints of blood later, vital sign's still holding."

An overwhelming sense of relief cascaded over him and Stephen could breathe again. "Thank God."

Now that his reticular activating system was no longer threatening to drag him into blessed unconsciousness, he finally noticed the dark circles under her eyes and the tired slump of her shoulders.

"And thank you." He reached out for her hand. "I'm sorry for doing this to you. Again."

"I've stopped holding it against you, Stephen." She waved his apology away. "It's the nature of our job, after all. Must always be ready." She peered at him, tilting her chin at Wong's healing dome. "A baby, a penetrating neck wound…and what's this now?"

"Got stabbed from the inside out by a dark magic sorcerer hell-bent on slicing the hell out of his voodoo cow doll."

Apparently, nothing could faze Christine anymore.

"Uh-uh." She gave him a once-over with a critical eye. "You alright though?"

"Think so?" Stephen looked to Wong for clarification. Ever the helpful one, Wong only grunted.

She spoke lightly in jest. "Cos I've just finished nights but I'm sure I can fit in another exploratory laparotomy."

"Ugh, no thanks." Stephen wrinkled his nose. "Knowing you, you would probably give me a colostomy under the pretence of safe practice when in actual fact, you just wanted to get back to me for all the times I hurt you back when we were still together."

"I don't hold grudges that long, Stephen." She socked him on the shoulder. Then her face turned grim.

"I've checked his reflexes, and the muscle tone in his legs and arms, they're all still intact bilaterally. And his toes are down-going on Babinski," Christine chose her words carefully. "So far Loki seems okay clinically, but we won't know the extent of neurological damage until he wakes up."

Stephen inhaled deeply. "Banner did a head scan on Loki once back in New York when he was still a nasty villain and he told me the collateral circulation in Loki's alien brain was insane."

He shook his head. He was not going to entertain another thought in this direction. They just had a big win. Loki was alive. "Wouldn't surprise me if Loki walked away from this unscathed."

"If that were true, I am ecstatic in every sense of the word," she said gravely. "But there is still a chance that Loki might end up paralysed –"

Wong's head whipped up.

"Then I am going to love him, and care for him, and never leave him," Stephen said. His voice did not shake.

Come what may.

"Come what may."

A/N: Not sure if anyone's even reading this but - Like it? Hate it? Meh? Let me know~! :)