"He's under. We're clear to proceed." At the anaesthetist's words, Stephen sneaked a look behind the barrier draping where Loki had been successfully intubated and was now lying in deep slumber and hopefully not going to feel a thing.

Loki had never looked paler, his long lashes stark black against the colourless white of his cheeks.

Please, please be alright

Stephen had never been much of a prayer but he was praying now to whichever God was listening

Please dear God let this work

"Surgical time-out, everybody." Christine clapped her hands, "It's time."

A surgical nurse began methodically reading out the checklist.

"The patient's name, His Royal Highness Prince Loki Odinson, the procedure is an emergency lower segment Caesarean section for bleeding placenta praevia in pre-term labour, and it will be performed under general anaesthesia. Our surgeons for today are Dr Christine Palmer and Dr Stephen Strange – " Christine raised a gloved hand.

A sense of nostalgia overcame Stephen and a strange calmness settled over him like a warm blanket.

The nurse continued with the all-around introduction, "Our anaesthetists, Dr Hastings and Dr Brunner, paediatricians on-standby, Dr Glendower and Dr Donovan," The two doctors standing by the baby warmer stopped tinkering with the resuscitative equipment and raised their hands, "Scrub nurses Elliot and Jools, runner nurses Langford and Ryans. Clock now is 13:09 hours Norwegian time with an expected length of procedure of forty-five minutes."

"Everybody good to go?" At everybody's resounding aye, Christine stepped forward. Stephen met her eyes and nodded. "Come, let's do this. Scalpel, please."

"They've been in there for a long time."

"It's only been an hour, Thor." Bruce tapped a finger against the side of his mug of tea. "Time passes a hell of a lot slower when you're the one doing the waiting."

The giant LCD panel in front of them beeped in succession and the physicist reached over the coffee table for the control. The waiting lounge was immediately bathed in fluorescent light and Tony Stark's face filled the screen. "Hey buddy."

Tony's eyes roamed the room, and upon seeing neither hide nor tail of Strange, only the solemn faces all around, he winced slightly. "Loki 2.0 still not out yet?"

"Surgery's still under way." Bruce removed his spectacles from his shirt pocket and put them on, squinting at the screen. "Where are you going? Looks like you're on the runway."

"Where do you think?" Tony's image wobbled violently as they followed him running up the short flight of stairs into his private jet. "I'm not going to miss the birth of the century, hell, of the millennium! This is medical tourism beyond the frontiers of our galaxy, Bruce. Can you imagine what this will do to my intergalactic reputation?"

Bruce rolled his eyes. "Thanks, Tony. We do need a bit of a cheering up."

"Be there in a few hours. In the meantime, there's an open bar behind you, guys. The drinks are not going to drink themselves, you know." The only person whose face the offer brightened was Valkyrie. Maybe this would mean she would finally stop pacing and wearing the brand-new carpet down.

"And Thor, perk up, buddy." Thor looked up, his face sombre.

"He's going to be okay." Tony reassured him with as much enthusiasm he could wring forth.

"Thank you, Stark."

The LCD panel automatically shut down as Tony ended the call.

Thor immediately leaned forward and buried his face in his hands.

"Thor…"

"You did not see him, Bruce."

When the medication they gave him to buy time failed to stop the contractions, it was only a matter of time before Loki started to haemorrhage, and heavily too. All Thor could see in his mind's eye was the terrified expression on Loki's face as they said their goodbye before they pushed him into the operating theatre. It was a goodbye too brief, too hasty - he had not wanted to let go of Thor's hand, nor Thor his.

Thor could no better bear his helplessness now than the many times he had found himself in too similar situations, knowing his brother needed him but finding himself rendered completely useless.

"He's beat the odds so many times, Thor…he has come this far." Bruce placed a hand on the God of Thunder's shoulder. "He'll pull through. He's Loki."

And as if on cue, a loud, shrill cry pierced through the tense stillness and Thor immediately leapt to his feet, "Is that –?" He broke into a wide grin.

"Quite the set of lungs on him too," Valkyrie said coolly, but her eyes shone with delight and excitement.

"Come on, come on, group hug!" Bruce was smiling so widely his cheeks felt like they were about to snap and as the Original Revengers gathered around, he threw his head back and laughed wildly. "Welcome to the Revengers, little baby!"

Stephen felt arms circle his waist from behind.

He gently stroked her arm, mindful of the ring on her finger. It was a ring that another man had placed on her hand when just a few years ago, it could have easily been him. "To think that this could have been us," he said softly.

Christine pressed her face into his back and he could feel her nod, as if in agreement.

"What we once had will always be ours, Stephen."

"And what we once had wasn't always good, was it."

Christine released her embrace but still kept an arm around his back as she moved to stand by his side. "Were we made for each other, we would have stayed together, Strange."

He nodded. How very true. He, of all people knew best the very nature of destiny, the certainty and uncertainty of fate, the paradox of it all.

"He is absolutely beautiful."

Christine laughed softly. "Every parent is almost always biased but I think I have to agree with you on that one." She marveled at the snuggly, bundled-up treasure in front of her, protected behind a glass window. "I think he is the most beautiful baby I have ever seen."

Stephen cocked his head slightly.

"What do you call that shade of hair?"

"Remember that movie we watched together the last time my nieces came over? What was it called, Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children? That lady who plays their sort-of Professor X?"

"You mean the movie you made me watch," Stephen dead-panned. He studied his son's hair. "Oh yeah…I think I see what you mean."

"Midnight blue-black?" She made an educated guess. "I will be sure to check the Pantone chart and get back to you on that."

"Don't bother." Stephen's eyes softened. "It's perfect. He's perfect."

Christine gazed at him. "You have changed."

Stephen turned to look at her. "For the better, I hope."

"Definitely." Then the tender look in her eyes turned mischievous. "You're much more pleasant to be around. Guess I have your Prince to thank for that. Finally met your match, huh?"

Stephen lifted an eyebrow, feigning offence. "Snarky doesn't suit you, Dr Palmer."

Christine laughed again. "No, that's all you. Well, the old you."

"Doctor."

A voice interrupted their comfortable camaraderie and they both turned around to see a Healer at the front door of the nursery, "His Highness is coming around, perhaps you would like to see to him?"

Stephen's heart leapt, and feeling a little flustered, he raised a hand in acknowledgment. "Of course, thank you. I will be there."

Dr Glendower, one of the attending paediatricians, knocked on the glass barrier and beckoned for Stephen to come inside. Christine urged him forward. "Go on. Take him."

Stephen's hand stilled around the knob. He turned around.

"Thank you, Christine. For everything."

The air around them stirred serene and pleasant. "I loved you."

"And I loved you." Tears filled her eyes. "Go on, Stephen. Don't keep your Loki waiting."

The bed was too comfortable. The pain was still too absent, which should not make any sense…but his best guess was he was still medicated up to his eyeballs.

That would also explain the hallucinations.

"Mother, you came."

He drowsed.

"I love you, my son."

Now he was hearing voices too? Okay.

"Loki."

He grunted. His eyelids were heavy, so heavy. Maybe Mjolnir was sitting on them.

"Thor? Get your hammer off ma face…" he mumbled.

"Loki, open your eyes."

"I can't." His mouth was full of cotton balls. " 'm asleep..go...away.."

"Loki, open your bloody eyes right now and look at your son."

Loki's eyes flew open. All fog lifted from his befuddled brain. What remained was a very bright room, with very white walls, the only colour being the strangely familiar grey eyes looking at him, deep-set and intense, the dishevelled brown hair and beard, the greying at his temples – Loki felt like he should know this face.

He felt like he should know this man's tired, drawn face very well.

"Hey," The man spoke. He was holding something in his arms.

"Hi."

"We made it."

"We made it." Loki could only echo his words. Cotton balls.

"We made him." The man angled the bundle in his arms upward so Loki could see and the sight, oh the sheer sight of it stole his breath away –

" 's not a dream?" Loki murmured. He felt so weak. Yet he mustered all his strength to lift out a hand, to reach out, to touch. He needed to touch.

"It's not a dream, Loki."

The man shifted his arms and suddenly the bundle was thrust right into the crook of Loki's neck. He gasped as the weight of the baby against the bend of his elbow reeled him in and his awareness returned in a jolt like a snapped tether.

Of course. Of course, Loki knew who this man was.

"Stephen."

The relief on Stephen's face instantly brought his haggard features to life.

He beamed and laid a shaky hand reverently on Loki's hairline, sweeping his hair off his high forehead. "You're back."

Loki stared in wonder at Stephen before his eyes dropped once again to the precious thing he was holding in his arm. "Is he – he is ours? Yes?" He sounded desperately hopeful.

Stephen could not help but laugh. "Yes, yes he is."

"I can't believe it," Loki murmured. His forehead wrinkled. "You're sure?"

Stephen laughed again. "Yes, Loki." He laid a hand carefully on Loki's now-flat stomach, mindful of the dressing covering the surgical incision running across his abdomen. "See?"

"He's too beautiful." Loki shook his head in amazement. "My son." He looked up, eyes shiny with tears. "Stephen, look. Our beautiful little boy."

"He looks just like you," Stephen murmured but there was no envy in his voice, only awe. The milk-white skin, the glossy black hair just a few shades off Loki's own with the most exquisite bluish undertones, Stephen's full red lips and the brightest, bluest –

"How come he's got Thor's eyes?" Loki's forehead wrinkled once again in confusion.

"Most human babies are born with blue eyes, Loki," Stephen explained patiently. "Has to do with the melanin or something or other."

"Oh. Okay." Loki nodded, not really understanding but in the grand scale of things, he could not care less, be the baby blue or green or red-eyed even – A surge of emotions rushed through him and he pulled the sweet-smelling bundle in toward him, crushing him to his chest. "You're mine."

Ignoring the intravenous line that was criss-crossing haphazardly all over the place, Loki's other hand reached across his body and fisted the front of Stephen's scrubs, tugging him out of the chair. "You're mine too."

Stephen's face crumbled, and he crushed Loki's lips in a raucous kiss, feeling the sheer exhaustion and desperation and despair and every ounce of nerve-wracking anxiety and just the total weight of it all drain and disappear, only to be replaced with an avalanche of jubilation and exhilaration and so much love.

Tears dropped onto Loki's face, and Loki licked them away, tasting and savouring the salt on his tongue –

"Oh, Strange. Not you." Loki's eyes welled.

And Doctor Stephen Strange held the love of his life and his child and there was nothing else in the whole universe that would ever come close to this;

He was home.

"Dr Palmer."

Christine pulled the curtains back around them for privacy. She was still in her scrubs but her hair was free and it fell across her shoulders in gentle waves.

"Prince Loki."

"Please, let us do away with unnecessary formalities, Doctor." He waved a princely hand around. "Just Loki is fine."

"Just Christine then." When she smiled, she lit up the room. Taking a seat to the right of him, she reached for his hand and Loki found himself complying; she felt for his pulse just like Stephen always did with him and the familiarity of it all put him at ease.

"How are you feeling?" She ran her hand over Loki's palm and pinched the tips of his fingers gently. "Any pain anywhere? Dizziness, light-headedness, feeling sick to your stomach?"

"I'm fine." Loki shook his head. He was fast regaining his strength, and he could feel his seiðr stirring and working feverishly to heal him inside; he could feel the blood circulating and warming his extremities, returning to his cheeks and there was a clarity in his head that he did not realise he had been missing.

"So you are she." Loki's voice was soft. "The one that got away."

Christine did not falter in her ministrations. Her hands gently felt his abdomen next, feeling for what was hopefully a well-contracted womb.

"Yes. I am," she answered calmly.

Loki studied her. Her features were delicate and very pretty, but there was a fire in her that resonated with the kind of spirited energy that Loki just knew was what must have drawn Stephen to her.

It drew Loki to her too.

"Thank you. I owe you my life, and that of my child."

Her fingers finally stilled. They reached up to brush her blond hair that had fallen into her eyes as Christine shook her head slowly.

"No, Loki. I should be the one thanking you."

Loki stared at her in open curiousity and wonder.

"I am afraid I do not follow," he smiled regretfully.

Christine did not answer immediately. Her eyes fell on the ring on her finger and she inhaled deeply.

"Please, tell me what is on your mind, Doctor. Even if it is about Stephen."

Loki's crisp, clear voice pulled her gaze toward him and as if mesmerised, she leaned back slowly in her chair.

"Thank you," she whispered. She folded her hands in her lap and her eyes took on a distant look of nostalgia.

"When you love someone and you can't be with them, the only thing you can do is pray that they find someone who can love them just as much as you and more."

When she gave him a smile, it was not of sadness or loss, but one of hope and gratitude. "You are the answer to my prayers, Loki."

He decided he liked her, very much. "I like you, Christine."

Christine could feel her cheeks burn. "I like you too, I guess?"

She could see now how Stephen could have fallen for him. They were so alike, Stephen and Loki, perhaps more than they realised –

"What was he like?"

"He was a pompous ass."

Loki rolled his eyes. "He still is."

"Oh no, no, surprisingly not so much now. He was a nightmare." Christine shook her head. There was a mischievous glint in her eye that reminded Loki much of himself. "I think you've fixed him."

"Surely not." Loki laid his head back on the pillow, regarding her thoughtfully. "I am my own man, as much as Stephen is his own."

"That's the beauty of being in love, isn't it. Bringing the best out of each other." The wistful smile on her lips did not go unnoticed.

"I wish you all the happiness in the world with the one you love, Dr Palmer."

A flutter in her stomach told her perhaps she too, was falling a little bit in love with this being, this Ice Prince from outer space. "And I wish you both all the love in the world, Highness."

Her eyes watered. "You take care of him for me, alright?"

Loki took her hand. "You were the first one to reach inside me and grab hold of my son. There is nothing I will not do for you, Christine."

"This I promise." His green eyes were intense, yet gentle, as gentle as his words.

"Goodness." She could lose herself in those eyes. She cleared her throat. "So, will we be expecting another baby in the nearest future? I need to plan my holidays around it."

Loki groaned. "Don't hold your breath."

Christine laughed.

"Have your parents named you yet, my sweet boy?"

"Stian," Loki murmured. "His name is Stian."

Loki had said it with no hesitation when Stephen asked him about it earlier and truthfully, Stephen could not come up with something else that sounded even remotely better.

"Ah. The Wanderer," Thor murmured in delight. "A good name if I may say so myself, Loki. May like his parents, he be quick on his feet, leaping from one universe to another in search of knowledge, fulfillment and wisdom and may he never know strife, pain and suffering for as long as he shall live."

Loki watched as the King of Asgard lay a gentle kiss on his newborn nephew's forehead.

"Thank you, Thor."

"My heart is filled with so much love I cannot bear to part with him, just look at how perfect he sits in my arms –"

"No, no, it's my turn now, Thor! Give him to me!" Thor tried to swerve, even put a hunkanormous arm out to push him away, but the physicist's grubby, greedy hands gained the upper hand as they predicted his move; Bruce swooped and snatched the precious bundle out right under the King of Asgard's nose and Thor could not help but whine in protest.

"Stian Lokisson-Strange." Bruce murmured. "I like the sound of that. Feels like the name of a Nobel Prize winner." He fondly nuzzled his nose into thick hair the glossiest shade of midnight, marveling at how unearthly sweet-scented newborn babies could be. "Will you be a scientist then, little Stian, like your Godfather?"

Stian made a noise, a cross between a burp and a mewl.

"Oh yes," Bruce started to coo. "Your Uncle Bruce is so, so proud of you, yes, he is."

Loki reached for Stephen's hand, squeezing it gently. "Don't look so cross, darling. Let them have their fun." He felt Stephen intertwine their fingers in response, and Loki whispered under his breath, a wistful smile gracing his lips. "Their season in the sun."

As Thor fought with Bruce to wrest control of the baby once more, Loki watched on, butterflies all aflutter in his stomach. And for the first time in a very, very long time, Loki felt his heart fill with the purest of joy and happiness and it was so tranquil and peaceful yet so bright and overwhelming that he could not help but

"Oh Loki."

He could not see beyond the tears

He could feel someone wiping them at first, then kissing them away gently, then fervently as the tears kept falling and falling like giant pearls down his cheeks

"Loki, Loki," Stephen murmured. "Please don't cry…"

Years later in New Asgard

"Good morning." Stephen swooped into the kitchen, all showered and barefoot. He padded over to the svelte figure still dressed in his bathrobe standing by the French windows who was calmly watching the Norwegian sunrise with a mug of coffee in one hand.

Stephen pulled back the raven locks, exposing the expanse of Loki's long neck and pressed a soft kiss to the nape of it, savouring the familiar scent of sweat, sex and sandalwood, "Morning, my Loki."

"Morning," Loki murmured, turning his face slightly to nuzzle his cheek against the top of Stephen's head. "Stian up yet?"

"Yes, he's all bathed and ready to go." Stephen wrapped his arms around Loki's waist and rested his chin on the trickster's shoulder. "Seems very excited about going on his first 'hunt.' "

"Oh, I think Thor is even more excited than he." Loki clucked his tongue in a peculiar mix of distaste and fondness. "Did you know he bought Stian a Shetland and a Welsh?"

Stephen frowned. "Thor's going to spoil him rotten."

Loki snorted. "You're four years behind time if you've only just realised that, Sorcerer Supreme. You need to catch up."

"Oh, I intend to." Stephen tightened his hold around Loki and breathed in deeply. The crisp smell of his lover's linen bathrobe was doing all sorts of things to his body; his sexual arousal did not go unnoticed for Loki suddenly leaned backward into him and stretched languidly, wrapping his gangly arms around the back of Stephen's neck.

How Loki could do that without spilling piping hot coffee all over him was anyone's guess. "I'm afraid I am in need of you again, Loki."

"I think the whole of Asgard is still recovering after the night we had, Stephen." Loki's fingers kneaded into the back of Stephen's scalp. "What's the phrase Bruce used that one time we fried not only his laminar flow closet, but his prized centrifuge machine? That they got caught in the 'Blast Radius of the Seiðr Sex Nuke from Hel'?"

"Sorry, not sorry." Stephen nipped the soft cartilage of Loki's ear, eliciting a small laughter from his raven-haired prince, either from the tickling or at the pseudoapology. "Do indulge your dear husband, my love. You know how much I've missed you."

"Serves you right for being gone so long."

"A pilgrimage is not something to be hurried, Loki. It is a sacred journey with an intended purpose to purify, fortify, clarify –"

"Bla bla bla Mystic Arts balderdash bla." Loki sniffed haughtily.

"God I am so turned on right now." Stephen murmured, his face burrowing deeper into Loki's dark locks.

"If you could get our sweet boy over to his Uncle, I'll make you some breakfast and then we can think about going at it again like bunnies," Loki said sweetly.

Stephen did not need telling twice. "Stiaann! Come on, buddy, chop chop!"

"Daddy."

Stephen's heart jolted to his throat. He whirled around –

How on earth?

One second his son was standing on the mezzanine landing looking down on them and the next Stian was suddenly standing behind him in his riding breeches and helmet, looking every inch the perfect little Equestrian.

Stephen looked down, and said drily, "You could have just walked."

Mischievous hazel eyes twinkled. "Uncle Thor said you never walked anywhere."

"I swear your Brother still hates me." Stephen rolled his eyes. "He's turning my own son against me."

Amused, Loki stooped and lightly dusted a hand across the boy's show jacket. "Not too much mischief today alright? Be extra careful, I don't want you falling - if you need anything just ask away and drive your Uncle crazy for me."

"Yes, Pappa." Stian stood on tiptoe expectantly and Loki turned his face to accept a kiss on the cheek

Loki tucked a stray lock of glossy black hair under the helmet and fastened it tighter. "I love you."

"Love you too, Pappa." Stian pulled on his riding gloves. "Come on, Daddy. Chop chop."

Loki straightened to his full height and laughed softly.

Stephen conjured his favourite pair of walking slippers and hurried to follow his son who was already out the front door, muttering under his breath, "How come I never get a kiss."

Loki rolled his eyes. "Hurry back and I'll make up for all the kisses your son owes you."

Stephen grew visibly more excited and he flashed Loki a grin, "Don't go anywhere."

Out on the corridor at the very far end of the hallway where the Prince's private wing met the rest of the Royal Household, Stian was already throwing himself into the King's arms, squealing in delight as Thor swung him around in giant circles. Stephen jogged over to join them.

"Brother!" Thor smiled widely, hefting his nephew onto one broad shoulder. "I did not know you were back."

"Right." Stephen did not believe that for a second. "Thank you for offering to take him today. I do hope it's not too much trouble."

"On the contrary, I was looking forward to spending some time with him. You ready, my sweet prince?"

Stian nodded up and down excitedly, "Bye, Daddy!" To Stephen's exasperation, the little brat waved Stephen along, more than goodbye –

"Stephen."

Stephen watched in fond amusement as Thor swiveled around and trod down the corridor with Stian bobbing up and down his shoulder, "Uncle Thor, once I'm good with horses, can we go join Daddy and Pappa to hunt bunnies? I want a black one and a white one, just like my ponies."

"Bunnies?" Thor echoed in mild confusion. Stephen's ears burned. He turned around in the direction of his living quarters before he could catch any more of their conversation –

"Stephen."

"Loki our firstborn takes after you so much, by hook or by crook, I will make damn sure our next one takes after m-"

"Stephen!"

"Loki?" Stephen frowned. "What's the matter?"

"Please…help –" And Loki screamed over the connection, a raw, deep, anguished cry of pure agony, and Stephan ran.

He found Loki on all fours, his mug shattered into pieces on the floor and his pristine white robe stained black with spilled coffee; Stephen side-stepped the jagged pieces of broken porcelain and crouched down next to the prince whose face had gone chalk white with pain. "What hurts, Loki?"

"S-stomach," Loki gasped, his eyes scrunched tightly but not enough to keep the tears from escaping and he choked for breath, flailing in Stephen's arms as another violent cramp seized his guts like a steel-jaw trap.

"Wrap your arms around my neck," Stephen urged, trying to stay calm. He slipped an arm around Loki's chest in the attempt to lift him but Loki's weight brought them down as he collapsed again, prostrating to the floor.

"I can't," Loki sobbed, curling in on himself, pressing both forearms against his abdomen, against the inferno of excruciating pain ravaging his insides. "Fuck!"

"Loki!" Stephen used all his strength to pry Loki's arms away, "I'm so sorry, love, but you have to let me see – "

Stephen clumsily unraveled the tie and parted the robe, revealing the smooth, pale skin of Loki's abdomen; nothing seemed amiss, but when Stephen's hand reached out to touch, he immediately sensed a pull of magic, and Loki moaned low, long and despairing. "Oh, you have got to be fucking kidding me!"

"Give me that!" Loki grabbed Stephen's hand and slapped it onto his belly and almost instantaneously, his body gave a great shudder and he slumped to the floor, breath ragged, completely and utterly exhausted.

When Loki finally spoke, there was hardly any trace of anger, only defeat and tired resignation.

"Explain to me, husband. Did you by any chance impregnate me again without my consent?"

Stephen stared at his hand now happily ensconced in the cradle of Loki's belly. "Oops?"