Back on Sakaar, he'd been way out of his depth. Alien planets and alien spaceships…

Bruce shivered at the memories. It truly had been the Hulk who got him through those cloudy few years. Banner would've never survived, he knew that much.

Maybe it was pure luck that Thor and Loki had landed on that very same planet. Maybe it was fate. Whatever the case, Bruce couldn't have made it home without them.

Both of them. And he was beyond grateful.

Yes, Sakaar had been way out of his league, but dealing with an unknown virus spreading like wildfire? That was a bit more his speed. Sure, he wasn't a medical doctor, but he knew enough to help. And he knew enough to know when to get help.

The medical team from Tønsberg General Hospital had arrived and finished setting up a little over a half hour ago. Beyond a lengthy string of questions, they hadn't required any help from Val, Heimdall, or Bruce—despite his seven PhDs. There were tests to run, patients to stabilize, and no, there wasn't anything the haggard group of Asgardians could do to help, thank you very much.

Left with nothing to do, Val had proposed they go check on Loki and bring him down to the Town Hall.

"As much as I hate to move him," she had sighed, hands planted on her hips, "he'll get the treatment he needs down there. Besides, it's not like there's anything Thor can do for him."

Thor. Every time he heard his friend's name, Bruce's heart cracked a little. Was it too much to ask that everyone just be okay for once? Is that too tall an order to fill, huh?

Everyone had agreed that Val's idea was the best course of action, which is how Bruce found himself descending into the village side-by-side with an unreadable God of Thunder.

A familiar sort of overprotectiveness that Bruce remembered seeing back on the Statesman had flared up in the god, prompting Thor to insist upon carrying Loki into town himself.

Val had tried to protest, but Bruce simply placed hand on her arm and she snapped her mouth shut. There would be plenty of time to chew her king out later, if that's really what would make her feel better, but the situation was far too delicate at the moment for heated arguments.

Delicate. That was a good way of putting it. Delicate…

Because Bruce had learned that even gods could shatter. The cumulation of it all made him long for the days when Tony's murder bot was the biggest issue they had to deal with.

He still didn't really know how that all ended… Thor hadn't exactly explained it very well, and Bruce had wanted to ask Tony, but… Well, Thanos happened. Then the Snap. Now this.

For what felt like the zillionth time, Bruce snuck a glance at Thor. The blond still had Loki clutched tightly to his chest, arms locked beneath his brother's knees and shoulders.

Dozens of comforting phrases ran through Bruce's head.

"It's gonna be all right."

"Loki's strong. He'll make it. I know he will. He always does."

"It wasn't your fault, Thor."

Every time his lips tried to form the words, however, none of them seemed right. So, he kept to his silence like the rest of the group. Val strolled alongside Heimdall a good distance behind Bruce—close enough to keep an eye on Loki, she'd said, yet far enough from Thor to keep from stabbing him in the back.

Nice one, Val.

Soothing words and careful explanations. That's what he seemed to be known for among the Asgardians. And normally, words came easy to him. Not as easily, maybe, as they did to Tony—that is, when the genius actually had something constructive to add to the conversation—but yeah… It shouldn't be this hard. He's your friend.

Yeah.

Yeah…

Maybe an epidemic was something he could wrap his mind around, but dealing with whatever messed up mental state Thor had fallen into? Yeah, that bordered more along the lines of Sakar. A.K.A way out of his depth.

Because this was Thor he was talking about. God of Thunder—a literal god. A powerful being from outer space who'd seen more of the universe than Bruce could even mentally comprehend on a daily basis. Thor, one of Earth's Mightiest Heroes, for crying out loud.

They had all been heroes. The main six—Earth's Defenders.

We should never have lost. Bruce dug a hand through his curls. How did we lose so badly?

One year later and Bruce still couldn't figure it out. Maybe he never would.

They'd barely reached the outskirts of the village when the stares began. Despite the early hour, a good number of citizens milled about the streets, and all of whom stopped whatever they were doing in order to stare at their king.

Gosh, when was the last time Thor even showed his face down here?

The tension grew thicker with each step they took and Bruce felt like he was wading through a swamp of anger, confusion, shock, and hurt. None of which was directed at him, mind you, but he felt it as keenly as if all those gazes were burning holes through his skull instead of Thor's.

"Just ignore them for now," Bruce whispered, hoping to ease a bit of the barely concealed stress on his friend's face.

"Ignore them?" Thor hissed back, a low, dry chuckle escaping his lips. "Sure. I've gotten good at that, haven't I?"

Right…

Then, the whispers started; the topic of these hushed exchanges was no secret. Bruce only caught bits and pieces of each conversation as Thor had quickened his pace—no doubt to get out of sight as soon as possible—but he wasn't liking what he heard.

"What's he doing here?"

"I thought he was dead…"

"How could he be dead? Prince Loki went to see him nearly every day."

"I still don't see why. There's never been anyone less deserving of attention than—"

"Hush your mouth, girl! Don't you know of whom you speak so poorly?"

"Is the prince going to be okay, Mama?"

"The poor dear. I bet it was his good-for-nothing brother who drove him to that state."

"Don't be an imbecile. It was the water."

"Water! Daddy, I'm so thirsty!"

"Whoever stole our water is going to pay."

"You're looking right at him, aren't you?"

"Don't be an idiot, Grandma. Thor didn't do anything."

Bruce never took his eyes off Thor, whose entire body was a mess of tension and strain.

"Whatever you hear," he said under his breath, "just remember: it's not your fault."

"Isn't it?"

"Come on, Thor, you had nothing to do with what happened to the water. You know that."

"Sure… Everyone else seems to think the opposite, though. Popular rule and all that."

"Well, I know you're innocent."

Another bitter chuckle cut through the air and Bruce forced himself not to shudder at the sound. "You can call me whatever you'd like, Bruce—Val already has—but not innocent. It's not… I'm not—"

A nurse burst into their line of sight, waking Bruce to the fact that they had arrived.

"Another patient?" She waved Thor over to her. "Bring him in."

In a rare show of his old self, Thor shoved through the door without hesitation, leaving Bruce behind to deal with the stressed out nurse.

"I'm sorry, Dr. Banner, but I already told you," she reminded as he tried to follow Thor, "the less people we have standing around in there, the easier it will be for our staff to work."

"But I won't just be standing there," Bruce protested, feeling Val come up behind him. "Look, I need to help Thor, okay? I don't think he should be alone in there—"

Not now.

"He won't be alone. And our medical staff will help your friend. There's no need to worry."

"No, you don't understand, Thor—"

"Dr. Banner." She held up a hand. "Please. It's all going to be all right, but you have to let our doctors work, am I clear?"

A heavy sigh deflated Bruce. "Sure."

Without another word, the nurse disappeared back into the building.

Right…

Val sniffed. "It's probably better that she keeps us out. I was this close to socking him one."

"Thanks for holding back." Bruce's tone was dry, just like his well of hope. Not his hope for Loki—for some reason, he knew the god would be just fine. No, it was his spring of hope for Thor that he couldn't seem to get flowing again.

Why? Because he didn't know what to do, what to say.

Sorry, buddy, but I'm sure things will start looking up soon.

Yeah, right.

The guy had literally lost his entire homeworld. Then, half his people. Now… maybe more.

"Ugh!" Bruce whipped around as Val let out a muted scream. "I hate this!"

"So we've heard," came Heimdall's dry comment. "Multiple times."

"Well, I'll say it again: I hate—"

"Okay! We get it!" Bruce snapped. And no, he wasn't angry enough to hulk out. He was just… really, really frustrated. "And there's a time and place for venting our emotions, but that time isn't right now. We can… I don't know, set up some type of support group or something later on. No, right now we need to stop focusing on what we can't do and look around to see what we can do. Okay?"

Though Val visibly worked her jaw, Bruce could tell she was starting to calm down. "Fine. What should we do, then?"

"I don't know, uh… Try to find out who poisoned the water?"

"You're kidding, right? That's gonna be like trying a needle in a haystack—to borrow your lame Midgardian expression. You know, Loki told me he actually found a needle in a haystack once."

"Good for him…? What about Heimdall?" Bruce turned to the stoic Asgardian. "Did you see anything? I don't know, anything suspicious?"

"I'm afraid my focus was elsewhere at the time."

Val let out a huff. "Of course, it was. No. Sorry, I didn't mean it like that," she amended when Heimdall's brows made a slight dip. "I'm just… Well, you know."

"We all are," Bruce agreed. "Which is why we have to find something constructive to do, something useful, before we all lose our minds."

"Perhaps finding a new water source for the people would be a good use of our time," Heimdall suggested.

Val nodded. "Yeah. we could go pick up some more gatorade and, like, a crap ton of bottled waters."

Water… It was the main source of their problem, wasn't it? It was the reason everyone was getting sick. Water…

"That's it," he murmured as thoughtful fingers brushed against his chin. "The water."

"Uh, yeah." Val gave him one of those you're sort of a werido looks. "We need more water, that's the problem."

"No, no. We don't need more of it. We need to use the water we already have to solve this!"

"Solve… what, exactly?"

"The art of plain speech, I've found," Heimdal began with a sigh, "is not very common among Midgardian geniuses."

"You can say that again."

"No, you're not getting it." If Bruce could've torn his hair out right then, he would have. "Loki said something about poison. This isn't a normal kind of illness: it's a poison. Right? We know whoever did this did it deliberately. What else could it be if not some sort of poison?"

They were both nodding, eyes deep in thought. That was a good sign. Come on, Banner, keep going.

"Look, if we can test the water somehow—pinpoint exactly what kind of poison is running through everyone's veins—then we can find the antidote."

Despite how proud Bruce was of his conclusions, Val didn't seem very convinced. And Heimdall… Well, he'd never really been able to tell what the Asgardian was thinking at any given time.

"And if there isn't an antidote?"

Bruce shrugged. "Then we'll make one."

"With what? Bruce, we don't have that kind of equipment here. I mean, have you taken a walk down mainstreet lately?"

"Uh…" Bruce scratched at the back of his head. "Not recently, no."

"That's because there is no mainstreet! We don't have one!"

"Okay, okay, I get where you're coming from. But… Don't we owe it to Loki to at least try. I mean, he's done so much for New Asgard. I think it's time we take the reins for a while."

After massaging the bridge of her nose for a moment, Val looked back at him through eyes that could only belong to the fiercest of warriors. "All right. Where can we get the tools we need to do this?"

A smile tugged at Bruce's lips and he reached for his phone. "I know a guy."

"He won't stop calling out for me." Though the nurse was right there, taking Loki's temperature, Thor knew she wasn't listening. Not really. "Every time he wakes up, he calls out for me, but I'm right here."

Why can't he see that I'm still here?

With a sigh, the nurse stood, lips pursed as she gazed down at his brother. "It's just the fever talking. Patients don't usually know what they're saying when they're delirious like this."

"I know that," Thor growled. "I need you to tell me how to get him to stop."

Every word, every time Loki called out… It all tore at Thor's heart. He couldn't take it. His little brother was suffering—possibly dying right before his eyes—and he couldn't do anything about it.

He was supposed to be the protector, the one who fixed things. Earth's Mightiest Hero. What a joke. Because he'd had opportunities to fix it. For the first time in forever, Loki had been opening up to him. Loki had stuck around when it would've been easier just to run away again.

Loki had stayed. Loki had trusted him. Loki had needed him—very openly needed him. And what did you do?

Ignored him because you couldn't deal with it all.

No… because you didn't wantto deal with it.

That was more like it. Thor had run. He'd run away just like Loki had every time he'd faked his own death. Run from your problems and don't look back. Right?

Only, there was nowhere else for Thor to run. Running would seal Loki's fate. Probably.

And Thor had done—or hadn't done—many things over the past year, yet even in his self-imposed solitude, he never truly gave up on his brother. There was always that part of his mind that needed Loki with him; that stayed because Loki had stayed.

It would've been so easy just to hop on a jet and takeoff. Stark had the resources, he would've helped Thor, no doubt.

But, deep down, Thor knew he could never abandon Loki. Not then, and especially not now.

"I'm sorry, sir, but we can't simply make him stop." The nurse explained, bringing Thor's mind out of the clouds. "The fever has to work its course before—"

"And what if its course takes him to his grave? What then? You're a doctor, aren't you? You're supposed to make him better!"

"I can't just make him better that easily. We have to run tests, we have to—"

"Then what can you do?" Thor snapped. "What can you do right now to keep my brother alive?"

"—Figure out what's causing the virus," the nurse continued, her tone the epitome of calm, "so we can understand how best to treat it. And if you're going to raise such a ruckus while we're trying to accomplish this, I'll have someone escort you out."

No… He couldn't leave—

Thor rose to his full height, towering over the woman by a good foot and a half. "I'm not leaving him." Not this time.

"No one asked you to, sir. Just refrain from shouting, all right?" She flashed him a tight smile. "I'll have someone bring you a chair."

A chair. So he could sit and watch life play out like he always did? Right.

Not this time.

"No,"—And he grabbed her arm, not unkindly—"show me what I can do to help."

"Like I told your friend, it's best if you leave the medical procedures to the professionals—"

"I don't need one of those stupid PhDs to put a cold compress on my brother's forehead. Now, show me what I can do to help."

Perhaps it was something in his tone that intimidated her, or maybe she was just tired of arguing with him. Whatever the case, the nurse nodded.

"Come with me."

At last.

Don't worry, Loki, he vowed, sparing a glance back down at his little brother. I won't let you down again. I promise.