Stephen glanced at Loki out the corner of one eye. "Have you eaten?"
A peculiar look settled over Loki's features as if puzzled by such an ordinary question but it only lasted a split second before he deigned to entertain it. "Yes. Toast."
Stephen would have accepted Loki's simple answer had it not been for the almost-imperceptible but unmistakable breath of a pause between the two words.
"I meant today, smart-ass." Strange's side-glance had taken on a glint of sceptical exasperation. "Have you eaten anything, at all, today?"
Loki pursed his lips, looking somewhat impressed. The mortal magic man was getting better at reading between and behind his lines. Or maybe in his erratic bouts of weakness, Loki was just getting sloppy and letting his aches and pains and discomfort slip through the cracks.
He sighed heavily and said nothing. The meagre dry toast he had forced down for breakfast the day before was but a distant memory and impossible though he knew, Loki could swear it still sitting heavy in his stomach like a brick.
"No need to look so forlorn, darling," Stephen said lightly. "I was merely starting a conversation."
He watched as Loki took in a slow, deep breath. And another. And then another.
"In through the nose, and out the mouth." Stephen's voice was quiet, soothing. "Is the right way."
"Is that so." Loki gritted his teeth.
"Yes, you are doing it incorrectly. I can see your temporalis all the way from here." With a flourish of his robes, the sorcerer rose from his comfortable chair and glided across the room. Before Loki knew it, Stephen had positioned himself behind him and without warning, rested his fingers against Loki's throbbing temples.
Loki fought the urge to shake his head free but when the other man's fingers started to knead his temples in slow, measured circles, the involuntary shiver that ran down the back of his neck got the better of him and he shuddered.
"Stop clenching. Here." Stephen stressed again, pressing none too gently. "You will not get rid of the nausea that way, you will only gain a headache."
Loki hated being asked pointless questions, and he respected the sorcerer-doctor enough to not ask him one. As to how Strange even knew he was seconds away from emesis…well. Loki must have it written across his forehead or something.
"How did you get here? I hope you didn't teleport." Strange sounded almost scolding.
"I was in the neighbourhood," Loki muttered.
"Well, do just call in next time and I will come pick you up." From where Stephen was standing over Loki's head, he could see his long lashes fanning out, casting shadows over the stark white of the god's skin.
" 'Pick me up.' " Loki's lips twisted churlishly, more in distaste than disdain. "Really, Strange?"
"Shall I remind you that you still owe me some two hundred dollars of Midgardian money? I am sure you have seen the dry-cleaning bill I had delivered to the Stark Tower by way of post. It is under your name after all."
Under normal circumstances, teleporting should be nothing more than child's play to Loki, but his last attempt at it had induced a dizzy spell lasting for an hour, and the last thing Strange wanted was Loki tumbling down the steps or something and cracking his skull. Or worse. Like him upchucking all over Stephen's antique chaise longue. Again.
"I do run quite a spiffy Pick-a-Portal service," Stephen quipped lightly. " 'Anywhere, everywhere, I'll take you there.' "
Loki's lips barely twitched.
"Only the size of an almond and already causing me so much grief," Loki grumbled. There was simply no way around it. There was scarcely anything he could eat that would not turn his stomach inside out and after nearly a month of incessant post-prandial vomiting Loki had decided the hunger headaches were much more preferable than going through all the trouble of eating only to have everything reappear moments later.
"It is the least you can do, after we agreed to disagree on where the best lodging is for you in your current condition." Still not letting go of the subject, Stephen watched as Loki's lips curled further, obviously at Stephen's choice of word describing his predicament.
"You do have a phone. Don't you?" Stephen realised he had been doing quite a lot of wishful thinking ever since Loki had entered his life. "Or is the possession of such asinine Midgardian technology beneath you?"
"Thor has one now." Loki's smile was all-teeth and falsely sweet. "Call him. I'm sure he'd love to talk to you."
Thor. The force of nature given breath. The legends spoke in length of his might, his will, his divine powers, and oh what powers they were - The legends should not only have warned of his storms, his hammer…but what of his wrath? That should have been Thor's moniker. The God of Wrath. No one dared to lay a finger on Loki before.
And Stephen had gone and gotten Thor's precious brother with child.
Breaking bad news had never been his forte back in his doctoring days. And one would think expecting a baby could only be good news…right? But as fate would have it, Thor seemed to still be undecided about it. He had not been happy. Not with Loki, of course. Loki could do no wrong in Thor's eyes.
Thor had not been happy with Stephen.
No. He would not relive the scene in his head. He had only just stopped getting nightmares about it.
If Stephen was a lesser mortal, he would be quaking in his boots even at the thought of seeing the God of Thunder again.
His fingers dug in deeper and his once-gentle massage escalated to a few pascals shy off vicious. But if Loki found it painful, he did not show it.
"Ravens."
Stephen felt himself tugged and thought he had misheard. "Hmm?"
"We had ravens." If Stephen was back in the moment, Loki was now a thousand miles away. "Back in Asgard. We had ravens to relay our messages for us."
"Father-" Loki's breath caught, the hitch so faint Stephen almost missed it. "Father kept two, Huginn and Muninn. We had eyes everywhere. Heimdall – peaceful be his soul in Valhalla – was the bane of my existence for centuries."
"Heimdall? Your…Watcher?"
"Our Watcher, yes. The most loyal, steadfast Guardian of Asgard, the Gatekeeper. He could see everything." Loki's eyes darkened as if reliving a distant, very unpleasant memory. "Well. Almost everything."
Loki wondered if he would ever come around to telling anybody about The Void, about his eternal fall…
About the one who broke his fall, and broke him.
His eyes cleared once more. Heimdall was only one of the names he had cried out in the end, once the unspeakable torment had become too great to bear. When he spoke next, his voice was soft, almost forgiving. "Nothing could get past him."
"Except you." There was no admiration in Stephen's voice. After all, he was only stating a fact.
A long moment of silence ensued before Loki finally gave an indifferent shrug. "They are all gone now. The birds too, I suppose. I never got around to finding out what had happened to them. I suppose if they were still alive, Thor could keep one, and I the other."
"I do not mean to offend but it sounds terribly inconvenient." Stephen wrinkled his nose.
Loki gave him a smile. It may be small, but it was genuine. "Oh, I agree. But a telephone is hardly exciting."
"Does it have to be? Necessities rarely are."
"Nothing needs to be exciting or boring. It is no matter. Not when I have my magic."
Uncomprehending, Stephen turned around and watched him curiously as Loki rearranged his limbs, changing his position from sitting to lying down on his back, his long legs bent slightly at the knees so they would not hang over the edge of the newly-cleaned chaise longue.
Loki then clasped both hands over his stomach and closed his eyes, as if readying to fall asleep. And when a few seconds passed where absolutely nothing happened, Stephen resisted the urge to snort his nose. Guess pregnant alien princes needed their kip once in a while. Who better to babysit over them than the Sorcerer Supreme?
Stephen was about to turn around and head for his desk where he could go back to poring over his books and brood when-
"I would like some tea."
Loki's lips never moved, but Stephen heard the words, clear as day, and his eyebrows shot up.
Loki's eyes opened and his head turned sideways slowly, not unlike a puppet on a string. The glint of glee in his eyes was unmistakable.
"Do make it strong and black, please. None of the detestable chamomile or mint or whatever gentle tea you mortals think I should drink instead."
"Thought transference." Stephen had to admit he was impressed. Yet another skill Loki felt compelled enough to share with him.
"I suppose your coverage is quite limitless? Do I have to take into account where I am if ever you feel the need to summon me, Your Highness?"
"As long as we are both on the same planet, there is no place I cannot reach you."
"That is hardly fair." Stephen could not help but feel a tad slighted. Telepathy was notoriously difficult to accomplish, let alone a two-way conversation. "Do stay out of my head unless absolutely necessary."
"Strange, I can only talk into your mind. I cannot read it." The phonation now that Loki was speaking in his real voice stirred through the air with an undercurrent of hostility.
The frosty silence did not last long. Being the better man was a small price to pay, Stephen decided.
"Well. At least that solves the problem of not having magic ravens at your disposal anymore."
To his credit, Loki accepted the truce rather gracefully. His features softened and he opened his palm up toward his human wizard, gesturing him to come closer.
"As much as I would love the credit, I am afraid I am rather undeserving of it." Loki gazed into Stephen's face meaningfully and he smiled at nothing in particular. "This is not my doing."
The wistful look in the suddenly-gentle green eyes was not lost on Stephen, who slowly found himself sinking to one knee. Bracing a forearm against the cushion, he hesitatingly reached out a hand.
With a flick of his wrist, Loki's outer leathers disappeared, revealing a finely-tailored undershirt made of what suspiciously looked like cashmere.
Stephen must have hesitated for too long, for when Loki let out a sigh, it was tinged with deliberately-unconcealed irritation. "Anytime today, Doctor."
Stephen offered an apologetic smile before sliding his hand underneath Loki's shirt and resting it against the smooth plane of Loki's stomach. The ice-cold skin no longer surprised him, but when the heat of Stephen's hand met the hard, lean muscles of Loki's abdomen, he could feel the violent churning stirring under his palm.
Without thinking, Stephen dispensed a soothing wave of magic through his fingers and he watched with something akin to concern as Loki breathed in deeply through his nose.
"You should have told me you were still feeling ill."
Loki rolled his eyes that clearly meant, as if I would ever.
Stephen did not know if it was the proximity, or if Loki had actually been wearing a glamor and decided to drop it, but he could clearly see the signs now. The pallid complexion of his skin, parched lips cracked in so many places, the sunken eyes, the lax skin turgor-
"Loki you are as dry as a bone." Stephen did not understand the anger he could sense beginning to brew under his skin. "Can you even keep water down?"
Loki remained stubbornly silent.
Stephen heaved a sigh. He supposed they were due for a change in subject.
"The size of an almond, you say?"
"Quite a noisy almond too." Loki raised a hand to the level of his eye and studied his palm. "He is quite vocal about the things he likes and dislikes."
"I take it he likes only toast and dislikes everything else?" Stephen's nose wrinkled in distasteful sympathy.
Loki nodded mournfully.
Stephen let out another sigh of frustration.
"Well…not all of everything else," Loki said placatingly. "He likes you."
"Of course he does." Stephen's heart lifted and he could feel the consternation melting away, if only momentarily. "He keeps bringing you back."
Loki's fingers played with Stephen's collar, unconsciously curling around the greying hairs at his temple. "Hmm."
"Have you really reconsidered, though? Like you promised you would?" There was Stephen's wishful thinking again. His hand stroked Loki's still-very-flat stomach gently, coaxingly. "Moving in here."
With me.
"The Sanctum isn't all that bad. It's got character," Stephen said lightly. "Sure, there is Wong, but that's the thing. There is only Wong. As compared to that overcrowded, overrated Avengers Tower that must be overrun by strangers by now, what with every Tom, Dick and Harry claiming to be some kind of superhero."
Loki nodded. How true.
"We don't even have to be in each other's company if we do not wish to be. Granted, there will be areas that are inaccessible unless you happen to be a Master of the Mystic Arts but you will otherwise have free rein of the place. Well. Within reason, of course-"
Stephen stopped. This was getting embarrassing.
Loki's voice was soft. "Go on. I like listening to you talk."
Unbeknownst to Loki, his hand had somehow stopped playing with Stephen's hair and was now cupping Stephen's chiselled cheek tenderly. It was the first real touch Loki had granted him ever since the night that sealed their fates together many weeks ago. This push and pull and push again was not a game to Loki, but Stephen must think it was-
This dance we do
Oh yes, it may have started off as dance, as it had been with many others before him, but not now, not anymore, but Stephen must not know it for why else was Stephen looking at him like that?
Loki felt a lump grow in his throat when Stephen's hand stilled its movement before abruptly lifting off his belly. Stephen pried Loki's hand off the side of his face and leaped to his feet with a swish of his cloak.
"I'll get you your tea now-"
"I think I heard the door. It must be Thor-"
Loki swung his legs off the sofa, once again resplendent in his green and black leathers, his feet scrambling for purchase on the floor. "-must have come to p-pick me up."
"Whoops."
Loki's incorporeal voice suddenly popped into Stephen's head, and it sounded breathless, which should be utterly ridiculous-
Stephen felt a brush of wind breeze past his ears and he felt suddenly lighter, as if a physical weight had lifted off his shoulders.
Loki's black hair spilling off the top of The Cloak of Levitation was the only part of him Stephen could see; the rest was engulfed in Stephen's sentient cape, wrapped around him like a cocoon.
The Cloak swiftly lifted Loki off his feet, carried him the few steps back towards the chaise longue and gently laid him out on the couch. When the Cloak wrapped itself around Loki's legs and elevated them so they were higher than the rest of Loki's body, the realisation finally dawned on Stephen.
Amazement and sheer pride for the absolute brilliance of his Cloak warred with the sick feeling of anxiety stirring in his gut.
"You fainted."
"I just…stood up too fast-that's all-"
"You stood up too fast and you fainted," Stephen said accusingly. "You have not been eating, you have not been drinking, and you bloody fainted and all I want is to take care of you and you wouldn't-"
Stephen balled his fists.
Loki's pallor was slowly being replaced by a more healthy rubor as the blood pooling in his legs rushed back towards his heart and his brain. Without letting go of his legs, The Cloak wrapped its other two ends around one of Loki's hands as if attempting to rub the life back into it.
"Brother!" Thor's voice boomed suddenly from behind him. Stephen immediately palmed his own face.
Great. Just great.
"What ails you now, Brother?" Thor dropped to his knees and his hands hovered in the air over Loki's prone body, afraid to touch. The Cloak of Levitation was obstructing much of his vision, the wondrous thing, still arduous in its ministrations.
Thor eyed it suspiciously. "Is this your doing, Sorcerer?"
"He had a syncopal attack, Thor. It is just a vasovagal reaction to being pregnant," Stephen answered snappishly.
Thor's glare could be as poisonous as Loki's if he put his mind to it. "So it is. Your doing."
Stephen pinched his forehead, where a tension headache was fast forming. Give a guy a break, will you?
"He will be fine. Just give him a few minutes, he will come around."
"I'm taking him home."
"Thor, stop." A pale, bony hand shot out from between the folds of sentient cloth and grabbed the Thunderer's bicep. "I am alright."
"Loki, you are not well. Perhaps a visit to the healers?" Thor stopped in mid-sentence when Loki's hand released his arm only to blindly but effectively muzzle him, dangerously missing an eye by a nail's breadth.
"I just need to eat. And drink."
Finally satisfied with Loki's recovery, the Cloak gently released him from its smothering embrace and flew across the room to resettle around Stephen's shoulders, patting him on the chin with a flap of the collar. The Sorcerer Supreme leaned his cheek into it and whispered his thanks on a job well done.
Loki avoided all eye-contact as he allowed Thor to help him up.
"Your tea." Stephen had in hand all of a sudden a saucer and a teacup filled to the brim with steaming strong, black tea.
Loki only stared at the beverage proffered him a few moments too late for a few seconds too long, and the sorrow in his glassy green eyes only deepened the pangs of guilt and longing in Stephen's heart.
Loki's bodiless words rang hollow in Stephen's mind. "Much appreciated, my dear Doctor. But I think I shall take my leave now."
But his bloodless lips moved all wrong. "Thank you kindly…but I think I'd rather have some toast."
How strange that two sentences that said completely different things could bear the exact same meaning.
Loki's glamor was in place once more and he looked picture perfect, not a hair out of place. And Stephen hated it.
Thor was only too happy to oblige. "Come, Brother."
And within seconds, Stephen found himself all alone in the suddenly empty drawing room. He looked down at the cup of tea he did not realise he was still holding in his shaking hands and despite the urge to throw it into the wall and smash it into a thousand pieces – just like his heart – he stopped.
He set the cup down carefully on the small lamp table and walked to the window. Drawing the curtains, he could see Thor, always the gentleman, opening the car door for Loki.
"Loki."
Stephen concentrated again.
"Loki."
The Ancient One had left him, left the world too soon, when there were still so many things she would have taught him had she not gone and died-
but it was not her fault.
"Loki."
It was not Loki's fault Stephen Strange was a bastard with a stone for a heart and ice in his veins.
It was not Loki's fault that Thor loved him so deeply and now that every family and friend they knew had gone and died, Loki was the only thing Thor had left and that made Thor all the more reluctant to let Loki go just a little and let Stephen love him too-
"Loki."
Loki's head whipped around so fast his eyes smarted against the bitter wind-
"Strange?"
It was not Loki's fault Stephen was a fool and did not make his tea fast enough the moment he requested it.
Even through the tint of the stained-glass window from two storeys below, Loki's gaze locked onto his and the god stared up in wonder.
Stephen searched Loki's face as if looking for the right words to say, to beg for the right to be strong for Loki again. "Powerful little almond, our little one."
Loki's beatific smile was all the sign Stephen needed.
He touched two shaky fingers to his lips, and then touched them to the glass.
Loki stood awestruck.
Thor's mouth was moving, saying something, cajoling him to get inside the car most likely, the wind was picking up and howling and too cold.
"My dear Doctor."
Loki slowly raised two fingers of his own and tapped twice on his chest.
Stephen watched the car finally roll down the driveway and out of sight. He thumped his forehead against the window, wishing he could just reach out with his mind, knowing Loki was only a call away-
"Only when necessary, Strange."
"I know, Loki. I know."
"So do I." A pregnant pause. "Stephen."
And at just the sound of his name, spoken in Loki's voice, Stephen's heart soared.