A/N: I'm so excited to post this chapter. A few of you have probably figured it out by now, but get ready for some really big changes. I had a bitch of a time with parts of this chapter - I used half a notebook writing and re-writing it. So I hope that the finished product meets with your approval. The comments you've left me have been so heartening and make me want to write even more, and I so appreciate every single one of you reading this.

Song: "A Safe Place to Land" by John Legend & Sara Bareilles

"Loki, there's a patron who needs a few volumes on"—Rachel typed something into the computer and squinted—"baroque literature, particularly Lope de Vega, if you can find anything."

Loki wrote the subject down on a yellow pad and cocked his head. "That would be in room 315, I believe."

Rachel shook her head in disbelief. "How the hell do you remember that?"

"We all have our gifts. Where is the gentleman sitting?"

She grabbed a printout and highlighted some of the text. "Someday I'm going to get you to use the computer system."

"I am perfectly capable of learning it." He took the paper from her hand. "I simply choose not to."

"All I'm saying is, then you wouldn't have to walk around with that dumb yellow pad." She expected a smartass reply, but he just shrugged.

"Do you require anything else of me?"

"No," she said. "Let me know if you need help finding anything. He's in the reading room." He turned to leave, and something in Rachel's head snapped. "Loki?"

He spun back around. "Yes?"

"Look, I know you and I haven't always seen eye to eye, and I probably shouldn't be saying anything because technically I'm your boss, but—are you—is everything okay?"

"Everything is fine."

"Don't bullshit me. I have radar."

"Excuse me?"

"You may be the God of Lies or whatever, but I've lived in New York City all my life, so I can smell garbage a mile away. You haven't given me attitude all day. What's going on?"

Rachel and Grace had known each other since seventh grade. They met during home economics, while trying to sew drawstring backpacks. They both failed that project but had so much fun that they became best friends. Grace had been the one to get Rachel through all five thousand of her breakups and had been the one to encourage her relationship with her boyfriend, Brian.

Likewise, it was Rachel who Grace called after Scott McAndrews had brutalized her. She took Grace to the hospital for the rape kit, and to Planned Parenthood to decide whether to have an abortion. And when Amy was born, Rachel was the first person after Grace's parents to visit her. They had both seen each other at their happiest and their most devastated. So, of course, when Grace introduced Rachel to Loki, she was instantly skeptical. He seemed too good to be true, and on top of that, she had gotten the sense that he was hiding something.

As it turned out, she was right, and it was a big something. At first, she had been furious with him for breaking her best friend's heart. But she had also seen him open that heart; Grace had lost some of her idealism after the assault, and her faith in people. Loki had let Grace love again, and for whatever reason, Rachel's cynicism didn't keep her from believing in him. Which, she figured, was why she could tell that he was hiding something again.

He became painfully aware that Rachel wasn't going to let this go. And, truth be told, he didn't exactly have anyone he could really talk to about it. Thor was on Asgard and he didn't think he should or could talk to Grace's parents about it.

"If you must know, Grace has taken ill these last few days, and I am concerned about her."

"Hm. Sick how?"

"It appears to be some sort of stomach ailment. It began the evening you, Stacy, and Leah visited, and has been ongoing since."

"Has she seen a doctor?" Rachel was looking at him impassively, which unnerved him.

"Not that I am aware. Should I suggest it?"

"Oh, I don't think you'll need to. I'm sure it'll resolve itself soon, one way or another."

He hoped she was right. It was distressing to see Grace so sick, and, although he certainly didn't blame her, taking care of Amy had largely fallen to him. Between that, his work, and attempting to care for Grace—despite her protests—he was starting to struggle in balancing it all.

"Thank you for your concern," he said. "And speaking of that, I am sure the gentleman across the hall is concerned about his research." But before she could reply, he had gone, as if he had realized his own vulnerability and needed to disappear into the stacks of books to protect himself.

"Grace, you don't look so good."

"Gee, thanks, Tom. If you hadn't just made partner, I'd smack you," Grace replied with sarcasm dripping from every word. Tom Lyons had been a senior associate when she had started and, after working together on a few small cases, they had formed a fast bond. He had been promoted to partner the previous month and she had been reassigned as his secretary when her boss had retired. It was a welcome change; she had grown tired of having to print emails and retrieve coffee for a guy who insisted she call him "Mr. Kent." Tom was mostly self-sufficient and gave her as much responsibility as she was willing to accept, but no more than she could handle. They also had an informal relationship, which is why she could threaten him, and why he could comment on her appearance.

"Hey, just because I'm technically your boss now doesn't mean you can't abuse me."

"Oh, well, in that case…" she trailed off and glanced at him. "Eh, I'll owe you one. I'm too tired to stand up."

"Are you feeling okay?"

"I'm okay. Just a bit under the weather this week."

He leaned against the wall of her cubicle and folded his arms. "Too much vacation?"

"Hardly," she said. "I think maybe I caught something from one of Amy's playground friends."

He grimaced and backed up a bit. "This is why I don't have kids."

She laughed. "Oh, yeah, that's why."

"Well, that, and I haven't been able to sucker a woman into dating me long enough."

"Now there's an honest answer. Anyway, I'm sure I'll be fine, and so will you, as long as I don't breathe on you."

"Even still," he said, pushing his shaggy blond hair back, "maybe you should go to the doctor, if for no other reason than not passing it onto me."

"Oh, well, thanks for your concern."

"No problem. Anyway, go home."

"It's only three o'clock!"

"You look terrible. Go home. I'm your boss, I command you."

She sighed, knowing he wasn't wrong. But she hadn't ever liked being treated like she couldn't do her job. Life had gotten easier in that respect since Loki moved in, if only because he shouldered half the parenting duties like making dinner or reading to Amy at night. She had made more career progress in the last year than she had in the four before that, and she didn't want to lose that momentum. Still, Tom wasn't the type to hold something like a stomach bug against her, and she knew she wouldn't perform at her best if she tried to push through it.

"Okay, you win," she said, gathering her things. "But I'm coming in early tomorrow."

"If you're puking, please feel free to work from home. I don't have any kitty litter to throw on it."

"Very funny."

As she walked to the elevator, she pulled out her phone to text Loki. Hey, I'm going to be a little late, can you get Amy from my Mom when you get home?

He replied almost immediately. Of course. May I ask why you will be late?

She hesitated. She and Loki knew better than most couples the importance of honesty. But she also didn't want him to worry needlessly, which he would no doubt do, even if it turned out to be nothing. My boss asked me to stop somewhere on my way home. Personal favor.

She waited for a response before she called for the elevator, but none came. Assuming he was busy at work, she threw the phone into her bag, pressed the button, and hoped the ride down wouldn't make her as sick as the ride up had.

Loki looked up at the door for what seemed like the hundredth time since he had arrived home. Even though Grace had told him she would be late, he couldn't imagine what personal favor her boss might have asked of her that would keep her out this late. He had already given Amy her dinner and bath, and now was contemplating eating alone. He almost never did that, unless he knew she was going to be eating elsewhere, like when she went out with her friends. Now that he had settled into the relationship they had cultivated, he preferred to share his meals with her. For someone who had spent the better part of a century as a loner by choice, it was all the more jarring for him to feel that way.

Amy sat on the living room floor, playing with a set of oversized, plastic blocks that she had received as a Hanukkah gift from Grace's parents. None the wiser to her mother's absence, she was content playing by herself, which he both understood and appreciated. She had "playdates," of course, with the children of Grace's friends and children she met on the playground. But it often occurred to him that perhaps as an only child, she had grown accustomed to inventing her own entertainment.

Sometimes, however, he wondered if Amy would grow up wishing for the sibling she could never have. By choosing to be with him, Grace had given up the chance at having more children. Occasionally, he worried she would resent him for it, no matter how many times she insisted otherwise. Grace was also an only child and while she never complained about it, she had said on a couple of occasions that she had always wished for siblings. It almost made him feel guilty for having hated Thor so much in the past.

Suddenly, he was jolted out of his deep contemplation by the sound of the door finally opening. As soon as she saw her mother, Amy pulled herself up by the coffee table and ran toward her.

Grace knelt and planted a kiss on Amy's forehead. "Hi, baby," she said. "I missed you!"

"I missed you too, Mommy."

"Have you had your dinner?"

Amy nodded. "Daddy made me sketti."

Grace looked up at Loki. "Did you have your dinner?"

"Had you been delayed further, I was considering it, but I thought I would wait a bit longer. Are you hungry?"

She hesitated, and he thought he saw a flash of discomfort on her face. "I'm going to put Amy to bed first. Is that okay?"

"Of course. I will finish preparing it."

"Thanks," she said, picking Amy up and heading toward her room. He could hear Grace asking her what bedtime story she wanted to read. It was turning out to be a perfectly normal evening, and yet, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. Grace had barely acknowledged him when she came home; usually she greeted him with at least a modicum of affection. Then again, he supposed she was also probably more tired than usual. Perhaps after putting Amy to bed and winding down a bit, she would be more herself. He poured two glasses of wine in anticipation of dinner and went about the business of preparing the meal. After a while, she reappeared, having changed into a pair of grey, wide-legged lounge pants and a sweater that drowned her in fabric.

While he poured sauce over the spaghetti in the pot, he asked, "What story did you read her tonight?"

"Oh, she just wanted to re-read the first Harry Potter book, for the millionth time. I think it's her favorite."

"That was the first book I ever read to her."

"Maybe that's why it's her favorite."

"Perhaps she enjoys hearing about magic."

"Well, after our trip, I know she enjoys seeing it."

There was a brief silence between them, and then he passed one of the wine glasses to her. To his great surprise, she pushed it back across the counter. "I have never known you to turn down wine," he said, dividing the spaghetti between two plates. "Are you feeling unwell again?"

She took a deep breath. "It's funny you should ask. Loki…"

He usually found immense joy in hearing his name from her lips. For so many months, he had heard nothing but the name he was forced to assume during his exile, and it still pained him that the first time she said she loved him, she had used that name. But her tone now was deeply concerning to him. It sounded hesitant, almost fearful.

"Grace," he said cautiously, "if you are unwell, I do hope you know I will gladly take care of you."

She shifted from one leg to another. "No, I know. It's not that."

"Perhaps you should see a doctor."

She realized there was no way to say any of what she had to say delicately. "Well, actually, that's where I was today."

"I am confused. I thought you said—"

"I know what I said. Tom told me to go. He thought I might have the flu, you know, because I've been throwing up so much."

"Then why did you not tell me?"

"I didn't want you to worry, especially because I figured it was nothing." Her eyes were overcast, steely grey. "I knew if you knew I was going to a doctor you would spend all evening worrying."

"I was worried nonetheless due to your extended absence."

She could sense annoyance in his voice, which momentarily threw her off balance. But she also realized he wasn't wrong. "Loki, please, can we just take a minute?" She put her hands over her face, rubbing her eyes. Suddenly, she felt a gentle, almost imperceptible hand on her shoulder.

"I'm only trying to understand," he said, quieter this time. "What did the doctor say, then?"

The weight of what she was feeling was almost unbearable and she desperately wanted to share it with him. But it was as though her mouth would not go where her mind wanted it to. The uncertainty of the future was too terrifying. And then she looked up into his eyes, green and bright, brow furrowed with concern. Those eyes were the same ones that had gotten her through one of the worst experiences of her life. They were the eyes she had fallen in love with, the eyes of her child's father.

Correction, she thought, children's father.

"What did you say?"

She stared at him and felt her heart in his hands. Had she said it and just didn't realize it, or had she imagined saying something she didn't say, or had he not heard her? Her head was swimming. There was no other way, though. That much, she knew.

"Loki, I'm pregnant."

Loki was gifted with a great many talents, chief among them being the ability to remain totally impassive even under the most trying of circumstances. It was how he had survived. He didn't like allowing others to read his emotions so easily; it was much more useful to conceal them until he knew what his plans were. At the moment, he had hoped to capitalize on that gift, hide his reaction until he could sort through his feelings. But based on Grace's expression, he was not at all successful.

"This—this isn't possible."

Grace wrapped her arms around herself, in a self-hug. "That's what I thought too, but it seems we were wrong."

He shook his head and ran a hand through his hair. "No, it is not possible. It cannot happen."

"Well, clearly it is possible, because it did happen," she said. "And how can you be so sure it isn't possible, anyway?"

His voice raised in shock. "We took precautions, Grace! Unless you neglected to take the medication—"

Her eyes narrowed. "I didn't neglect anything, Loki. Sometimes, it just doesn't work."

"The odds of that—"

"Did you ever think that maybe, just maybe, human birth control is no match for alien sperm?"

His expression darkened. "You know how much I detest when you call me that," he snapped.

"And I'm not thrilled with being accused of neglecting my responsibility, but here we are," she spat.

He crossed the room, pacing in front of the door. He looked, to Grace, like he was having some sort of mental episode. His eyes were wild, and his fists were clenched. "Grace, you do not understand. This simply is not possible."

She couldn't help it—she rolled her eyes. "Just because you keep saying that doesn't make it true."

He took a deep breath, trying to regain composure, and to keep his voice down to avoid waking Amy. "All right," he said. "All right, is there any possibility that the doctor misdiagnosed you?"

She raised an eyebrow. "You think it's more likely that I've been throwing up nonstop for two weeks because I have a bad case of food poisoning? They did a damn test, Loki."

"Tests can be incorrect."

"Why are you so opposed to the idea that I'm carrying your child?"

"Grace, darling—"

"Now is not the right time for you to call me darling," she said. There was a distinct sharpness to her voice that he had only heard on one other occasion: the first time they had ever fought, and she had walked out of the apartment.

"I am simply trying to explain to you that there has never been any recorded instance of an Asgardian and a mortal procreating!"

She put her hands on her hips. "Well, that might be relevant, if you were Asgardian."

His eyes flared, and for a moment, he felt the first flash of true anger he'd ever felt toward her. "Thank you so much. You know I so love being reminded that I have the blood of those monsters in my veins." His voice was as icy as his skin could be. "And now—now there will be another of us!"

Her mouth dropped open. "Did—did you just say—"

She expected him to immediately regret it and apologize. But his eyes remained cold, face contorted in anger. She felt tears welling but she didn't want to cry in front of him. Even more than that, she did not want the argument to escalate and wake Amy up. So instead, she just shook her head in disgust, walked to the bedroom, and locked the door behind her.

He found himself in Central Park, without remembering how he got there. It certainly wasn't at all convenient to the apartment. In fact, he realized he had somehow taken an entire forty-five-minute journey with very little memory of it. In fact, outside of knowing he was in the park, he didn't know exactly where he was. There was a bridge he thought he recognized, but half the bridges in the bloody place looked alike. It didn't much matter, though. He wasn't heading in any particular direction anyway.

It was after ten at night by that point, and the park was nearly deserted. All the better, he supposed, as he was seeking solitude. The evening had gone as poorly as it possibly could have. He and Grace had had disagreements in the past, of course, but nothing like this. Not since he had returned to live with her, anyway. She had locked him out of their bedroom, and he hadn't even tried to go in after her. The worst part, though, was that he had no idea how to proceed. This was something he had never expected, and so he had no plan to deal with it. The only thing he knew for certain was that she could not be pregnant with his child.

Suddenly, a great blast of multicolored lights shot down from the sky onto the grass before him. The force nearly blew him backward and as he steadied himself, he saw a tall, blond figure standing where the light had been, clutching an umbrella in one hand.

"Loki," Thor said, "we must talk."

"Do you ever announce your visits in advance, or must they always be a great, loud surprise?"

"What's wrong? God of Mischief can't take a little chaos?"

"What are you doing here, brother? Surely the Allfather didn't send you."

"No, I came of my own accord. Can't one brother visit another simply to see how he fares?"

"You didn't think I'd actually fall for that, did you?" Loki scoffed, as Thor took a seat on a nearby bench. "In addition to the God of Mischief, I am also the God of Lies."

"How could I forget? How many times did I fall for those lies?"

Loki leaned against a tree across from the bench. "All the more fun it was for me," he said. "Why are you here? The truth this time."

Thor set his umbrella down beside the bench and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. Even in the darkness, Loki could see the piercing blue of his brother's eyes. "Why don't you tell me?" Thor asked.

"I have no need of your assistance. I can handle my own affairs."

"Oh, yes, you're right," Thor said, a slight mocking tone to his voice. "Out wandering through the park in the middle of the night, muttering to yourself, looking like a madman—"

"I beg your pardon! I was not muttering—"

"That certainly explains why I heard you saying something about all the bloody bridges looking alike."

Loki was momentarily stunned. Had he really been talking to himself? He felt like he was going mad. "Even if what you say is true, it certainly does not mean I require help, least of all from you," he huffed.

"Why such anger toward me, Loki? Have I done something to incur your wrath since we last spoke?"

Loki sighed, heavy as an anvil on his chest. He rubbed his forehead, feeling the blood pulse through a very pronounced vein. "No," he finally said. "Not that I am admitting I require your help, but it is not you with whom I have a quarrel."

"Then who? Did something happen with father before you left?"

"No. Oddly, we parted on better terms than ever in the past."

"Certainly not Mother?" Thor replied, more a statement than a question.

"Of course not."

Thor leaned back. "Well, Loki, we could be here all night playing guessing games, or you could simply tell me."

"I am surprised Heimdall did not tell you himself," Loki replied bitterly, spitting his words. "That is, of course, how you knew to come. You and that third-rate spy—"

Thor immediately sprang to his feet. "Listen here, brother—"

"Sitting up there watching my life play out as entertainment—"

"Heimdall does not spy and you damn well know—"

"We are not fodder for Asgardian gossip—"

"Don't you understand that he is simply watching for—"

"Grace is with child."

Their argument fell to the ground with a resounding thud. Thor looked as though Loki had just said that he himself was pregnant. To be perfectly honest, Thor believed that to be a more likely prospect. "Loki, are you—"

"Certain?" Loki finished. "She seems to be."

"How?"

Loki sank down onto the grass, wet from the evening dew. Thor sat down next to him. It was almost as if they were children again; what he wouldn't have given for the chance to conjure a snake to bite Thor. "She went to the doctor, apparently. It would seem our precautions did not work."

"Well, it's not as though there is some sort of guidebook on this," Thor replied. "Midgardian protections against conception are likely ineffective against—"

Loki laughed quietly. "Alien sperm."

"I'm sorry?"

"Nothing."

"Loki, forgive my ignorance—"

"I always do."

"But," Thor continued, breezing by the halfhearted insult, "why are we out here?"

"What do you mean?"

Thor looked around. "Why are we in this park in the middle of the night and not at your home?"

Loki shifted uncomfortably. "Well, for starters, because Amy is asleep."

"And second?"

There was a pause. "And second, because Grace has locked me out of our bedroom." Thor tried to suppress a smile, but Loki caught it just the same. "Oh, do shut up."

"I'm sorry!" Thor replied, patting Loki on his shoulder. "I truly am."

Loki sprang to his feet. "I should have known better than to think you would understand. You and your perfect relationship." He stalked away, infuriated.

"Perfect relationship?" Thor called after him, running to catch up. "Loki, for heaven's sake, stop!"

"Why? So you may continue to mock me?"

"No one is mocking you! And if anyone has a perfect relationship, it's you, not me!"

Loki rounded on him. "Did you not hear me when I told you that she has locked me out of our bedroom?"

Thor took his brother gently by the shoulder to calm him. "I did. But Loki, do you not see that you and Grace share a life that I long for?"

Loki was aghast. "Beg your pardon?"

Thor, taking advantage of Loki's momentary bewilderment, put his arm around his brother and urged him to walk onward. "You said once that you remember living in the shade—what was it you said?"

"Living in the shade of your greatness."

Thor smiled. "You always did know how to turn a phrase. At any rate, I know that it has not always been easy for you to have me as your older brother. Perhaps, however, it would help you to know that I now envy you."

"I thought you said no one was mocking me."

"Has it ever occurred to you that for as long as Jane and I have been together, she still lives on Midgard and I on Asgard?" Thor asked, but his brother did not reply. "Jane loves me, and I her, very much. But you and Grace have something together that is priceless and of which I am quite envious."

Loki sighed, rolling his eyes. "Let me guess: a family."

"You say that as though you are disgusted by it."

Suddenly, Loki stopped in his tracks and pulled away from Thor. "I am!" he yelled. "I am disgusted by it!"

Thor was slightly stunned. "You cannot possibly mean that," he said, as calmly as possible. "I have seen you fall in love with Grace, with her child—your child! You mean to tell me now that you have been lying all this time? Do you still long for a throne?"

Loki's words caught in the base of his throat. "It isn't—it is not about a throne. It is not about Grace. It is not about Midgard or Amy or my ability to lie."

"Then what, brother?"

Loki rubbed his eyes, which were burning with exhaustion and fear. And then he admitted something, so quietly that Thor could barely understand him. "I am disgusted with myself."

"But Loki, you have what you wanted, what you fought so hard for. You—"

"And now I have ruined it!" His tone was both angry and desperately sad. "I have destroyed it."

"How?"

Loki meandered over to a patch of catmint, lavender blue and only just beginning to bloom. He stood looking at it in silence for a long while, trying to decide if there were words to express the twisting thoughts in his head.

"I have ruined her."

"What?"

"When we quarreled," he said, "I told her there has never been any record of a mortal and an Asgardian successfully procreating, and she reminded me that I am not—"

"Asgardian," Thor finished. "Are you concerned for her safety during this pregnancy?"

"It is not simply that, although the probable physical danger she will risk by carrying this child has not escaped me."

"What more is there?"

Loki hated this conversation more with each passing second. "No matter how close you and I have become, no matter how many ceremonies over which I preside, no matter whether I am considered Prince of Asgard, my name will always be Loki Laufeyson, and I will always be of Jotunheim. A Frost Giant."

Thor was beginning to understand where this might be headed. "You are more than your parentage, and you know that."

"My father was a monster and we both know that. What right have I to bring a child with my lineage into the world? And to force Grace to carry it?"

Being with Grace and becoming a father to Amy had changed Loki a great deal, but Thor knew none of this had been easy for his brother to admit. He had spent many years fighting the monster he felt he was, and the progress he had made still didn't seem to be enough for this life event. Thor tried to grasp at some words, any words, to comfort or reassure. "You are no monster, Loki."

"Brother, this child is half Grace, but it is also half of me. And what happens if the half that is me destroys everything?"

Suddenly, Thor had an idea. "If that is truly what concerns you, brother, then I would urge you to look to your daughter."

"I'm sorry?"

Thor spoke softly and carefully, as if he were approaching a wild animal. "Amy is half Grace, as you say. But she also gets half her genes from a monster, a true monster. Do you believe, then, that she will turn out like the monster that contributed to her making?" He didn't even wait for a reply. "She was created in part by evil, but has turned out to be a loving, intelligent, and, may I say, mischievous little girl, in no small part because of who has helped raise her."

Loki had never held as much affection for his brother as he did in that moment. It may have been, in fact, the first time he felt as though Thor considered him a true equal, worthy of concern and love.

"I have never seen her quite so angry with me," he said after a moment.

"Not even when you revealed yourself?"

"At least then she laid into me. This time, she merely left the room. That's only happened once before."

Thor winced. "That is never a good sign, to be sure. How long do you suppose she will stay angry with you?"

"Probably at least until she speaks with her mother," Loki sighed. "Thankfully, Vivian takes pity on me a great majority of the time."

Thor tossed his umbrella from one hand to another. "Well, in the meantime, would you like a ride back to Brooklyn?"

"While I do so love the idea of being launched into the air like a ball in some sort of sporting event, I feel I shall be better off taking a less conspicuous mode of transportation."

Thor laughed. "I understand. I should return home anyway. Jane is still visiting, and I do not wish to find myself locked out of my own bedchambers."

As Thor prepared to ask Heimdall to open the Bifrost again, Loki put a hand up. "Thor—"

"Oh, yes," Thor said, a half-grin on his face. "I almost forgot. Congratulations." Suddenly, his brother vanished from sight in the same powerful, colorful blast from which he came. And to his amazement, Loki was not only thankful for Thor's counsel and solace, but for not expecting him to say just how thankful he was.

When he opened the apartment door, Loki was unsurprised to be greeted only by darkness and silence. It was past midnight by then, and since Grace had gone into the bedroom much earlier in the evening than usual, he assumed she had been asleep since he left. He crept in and shut the door as quietly as possible and knelt to untie his shoes. Just then, a light came on, and when his eyes adjusted, he was shocked to see her sitting on the couch, looking as though she hadn't slept at all. Her hair was in a messy bun on top of her head and the impression of one of the textured throw pillows was etched on her cheek. He normally would have found her absolutely adorable this way, but her eyes were red, sad, and tired.

"Hi."

"Hello. Why are you—"

"I tried to sleep in the bedroom, but as it turns out, sleeping without you is still hard, even when I'm angry with you."

He finished taking his shoes off and stood, unsure of where he should go. He suddenly felt like a stranger in his own apartment. But Grace, mercifully, shifted on the sofa and jerked her head slightly, a peace offering of sorts.

He sat down next to her and folded his hands in his lap. "Did you fare any better out here?"

She smiled slightly but didn't look at him. "Kind of hard to sleep anywhere without you. And I guess I was just thinking."

"Well," he said, "that would make two of us."

"Oh yeah? What were you thinking about?"

"I would rather you share your thoughts first."

She cleared her throat. "Well, I guess I was mostly thinking about the night Amy was born. Not the birth itself, but that night, after she was in the hospital nursery. I remember being in the hospital bed, and I remember being exhausted. I was so damn tired, but I couldn't sleep. Kind of like tonight, I guess."

"Why were you unable to sleep then? Surely your body was begging for rest."

"It was. Believe me, I was so physically and emotionally exhausted that I was almost in tears. But it's just—the room was so quiet."

"Is that not the optimal situation for rest?"

"You'd think. But try to imagine something." She turned and looked at him. "That whole day had been so noisy and busy and loud and overwhelming. My mom was in the delivery room, there were people in and out all day, I had this new little person to love, and people wanting to meet her. And then, suddenly, everything just stopped. It got quiet. And that was when I realized just how alone I was."

His heart was pounding against his ribs. He stared at her, pupils dilated, not knowing what to do or say. "Grace…"

"After you have a baby, you're supposed to have someone there. Unless you've decided to do it alone, you're supposed to have someone there."

"Your mother—"

"No. What I mean is, there's usually a partner. The baby's other parent. And for me, there wasn't."

She looked like she might cry, and he didn't know what he would do if she did. His natural impulse would be to comfort her, but he wasn't sure she would welcome it. "Why are you telling me this now, after all this time?"

"Because I want you to understand why I'm so upset with you, Loki."

"I know why—"

"No, you don't," she said, holding a hand up. "I'd adjusted to the idea that we would never have a child. I was okay with that. I really was. I'm not just saying that. You, me, and Amy, that was more than enough for me. But then this—I never expected this pregnancy, Loki. And I was scared, just like I was scared last time. But this time, I was also really happy. And do you want to know why?"

"Of course."

"It's not just because I'm pregnant again. I mean, if I had no idea what to expect last time, I really don't know what to expect now, and that's terrifying. But it's our baby, Loki. That's why I'm so happy. Because I get to have this baby that we made, and this time, I thought I wouldn't have to feel alone."

She had started crying by then, and he could feel shame rising like bile in his throat. He wanted to help her understand why he had reacted as he had, help her feel better, help heal both their pain. So, he took a chance and reached for her hand, praying she wouldn't recoil. She didn't. He lifted her chin with his free hand.

"You won't be alone, my love. I promised you long ago, and I promise you now, I have no plans to leave your side."

She nodded, tears still streaming down her cheeks. At least for now she felt like their fight was resolved, if not the issue underlying it. "Let's go to bed. We can talk more in the morning."

She started to get up, but he held onto her hand, gently pulling her back down. "If it's all the same to you, I cannot lay with you in our bed until I explain my reaction this evening."

"Loki, you don't have to. It's late."

"Please."

He looked so desperate that she didn't have the heart to argue with him. "Okay."

He took a deep breath. "When I was out, I went to Central Park. I wanted to walk somewhere familiar to me."

She half-grinned. "And around the block just wouldn't suffice?"

"I think perhaps in the back of my mind, I wanted to go to the place that reminded me most of what my life was like before we met. I was angry, and it is easier to be angry when you are reminded of your darkest memories."

"Did it help?"

He shook his head. "I did not really have the opportunity to wallow. Unsurprisingly, my plans were thwarted."

"By?"

His lips curled into a sheepish smile. "My brother, naturally. I sometimes believe he still does not entirely trust me."

"Can't imagine why," she said. "What did he want?"

"More or less to ask why I was out wandering the park like a lunatic, talking to myself. It was quite an interesting discussion we had." He was squeezing her hand so hard by that point that she was grateful her ring was almost unbreakable. "For whatever it is worth, my brother agrees with you."

"About what?"

"He, too, believes that Midgardian protection likely could not prevent this."

"I always knew your brother was smarter than you said he was."

"That he is." For once, the words didn't taste bitter. "To get to the heart of the matter, Grace, it is not you with whom I was angry. It was me." He expected her to reply, but she didn't. "When I gave you this ring, and asked for your hand, I told you I once believed my destiny to be a monster and that I no longer believed as much. But, as my mother once said to me, I tend to be perceptive about everyone but myself."

"Loki, are you telling me you still see yourself as a monster?"

She put a hand to his cheek. He drew it away and kissed it. "It is easy to convince yourself you no longer fear something until you are confronted by that very thing."

"I don't understand."

"I, too, believed and accepted that Amy was to be the only child I would have. And make no mistake, she would be more than enough. I love her more dearly than you can imagine. Even though, and perhaps even because, she does not carry my blood." He was beginning to lose his composure. "But the idea that I might sire a child who does carry that blood…"

Her eyes had softened by then, and her heart with them. "Why would that matter? I mean, aside from the obvious physical unknowns that this pregnancy carries?"

It was his turn to cry, and an entire evening's worth of tears poured out of him. "My father was a murderer. I—I was a murderer. My greatest fear is that I will ruin what we have by creating a child that is half of what I am."

"What do I have to do to convince you that you aren't what you were?" she asked, almost pleading with him. "You're a lot of things. You are my partner. You are Amy's father. You are an enormous pain in the ass. But you aren't a monster."

"I have been told as much before. The pain in the ass part, I mean," he replied through his tears. "But Thor reminded me that who we are is who we choose to be, not what our lineage says we should be. Amy is proof of that."

She smiled. "Yes, she is. And this new baby will be as wonderful as you, because it will be raised, in part, by you. There's no way it could be anything else."

He hesitated. He had one other nagging fear, and he didn't know how to say it. "Will you still love me if it—"

She knew what he wanted to ask and wanted to assure him that regardless of whether their baby's eyes were blue, green, or the blood red of a Frost Giant, she would love it just the same.

"If it keeps me up all night?" she asked.

His tears turned to a great smile, spreading across his face and through his entire body. Without realizing what he was doing, he reached a handout and placed it on her stomach. She covered it with her own, and he kissed her.

"Shall we go to sleep?" he asked. "As you said, soon enough, this child will be keeping us both up all night."