Each minute felt like an hour. Loki focused on the sound of his own breathing and struggled to keep his hands steady. The bleeding had slowed, but not before Loki's hands and sleeves were coated red. In, out. In, out. You can do this.

Frigga was at the front of the group that rushed in, and the others followed behind her—the stable-master, and Otnoa and her apprentice, a tall, broad-shouldered woman with ruddy cheeks that Loki often saw when he ventured to the healing halls.

The stable-master immediately came into the stall and led the horse out, giving wide berth to the two princes. Loki watched the animal warily, as if it would strike again at any moment.

"Thor!" Frigga gasped, falling to her knees by her eldest's side. Loki followed her gaze from the pool of Thor's blood to his own pale hands, small but steady, holding Thor's temple.

Otnoa joined them. Otnoa was the royal family's personal healer, and she had been the one who advised Loki to apply pressure to a bleeding wound.

"You may lift your hands now, my prince," Otnoa said gently to Loki. He looked up at her, feeling tears beginning to burn in his eyes. He shook his head. In, out, he kept hearing in his mind, Keep your hands there, Loki. You're doing fine, just keep your hands right there.

"It's all right, my little one," Frigga said. Loki looked up at her. "Let go, now, sweetheart. Otnoa will help Thor, now. You've done your part."

You've done your part.

"I'm s-sorry," Loki choked, feeling the tears rush down his face. The gravity of the situation overwhelmed him once more, and his hands lifted of their own accord. He sat in absolute silence, unable to tear his gaze away from his bloody hands. They shone in the low light.

By the time he looked up, Otnoa's apprentice had already lifted Thor, and with Otnoa cradling Thor's head in her hand, the healers were leaving the stables. Loki stumbled to his feet to follow, but a pair of gentle hands on his shoulders held him back. Loki's gaze snapped to Frigga's face above him.

"I want to go with them," Loki whispered. His voice was hoarse. "He needs me."

"No, Loki," Frigga said. Something about how she said it made his heart drop to his stomach. "It's all right now. Let's go and get you cleaned up."

She picked him up, and Loki leaned with his head on her shoulder, keeping his hands well out of the way. He opened his mouth to apologize again, but Frigga shushed him before he could, and he fell silent as she stood and left. The rhythm as she walked was steady, a rocking that was almost therapeutic, and Loki felt himself entering a strange daze as they walked. He didn't know how much time had passed when he came back to his senses.

"Send someone to clean the blood off the floor of the stables." Loki stiffened and looked up at the door-guard Frigga was speaking to. The guard was looking at Loki's hands, kept carefully away from Frigga, drenched in his brother's blood. "And send for Odin—have him go to the healing halls to watch over Thor."

There was something in the guard's expression that was almost accusing. Loki looked away. Frigga glared at the guard until he rushed to do her bidding, visibly fighting to tear his eyes from Loki's hands.

"I want to see him." Loki finally said after a few minutes, his head back on Frigga's shoulder.

"Once we've got you cleaned up and your clothes are changed."

Loki shook his head. He wanted to see Thor now. He had to make sure he was okay, and he had to apologize, over and over until maybe Thor would accept it.

"Be reasonable, Loki," Frigga said. Her tone was stern, though not mean. "Thor is in Otnoa's care. He'll be fine for a few minutes while we get you washed up."

She was so rarely stern with him that even the panic growing tight and hot in his chest could not draw Loki to argue. He bit on his tongue; he tasted blood. The tears had only just stopped, but now they began pouring anew, but Loki stayed utterly silent, turning his face so she could not see his tears. He didn't hide against her shoulder again.

Frigga left Loki in his rooms with instructions to wash his hands and take off his tunic while she went to find him a new one. Loki stood at the washbasin, looking at his own reflection in the mirror for a long moment. His face, exhausted and haggard, stared back at him. His hair curled over and was stuck to his neck in some places with sweat, and his the blood on his hands was now dry and flaking. He looked away from the mirror, unable to bear looking any longer, and pulled his tunic over his head, wincing as the pain in his back returned. When the tunic was off, he splashed some water on his face and neck, and then took a dark washcloth and scrubbed at his hands.

The water was lukewarm, and he wished it was hot. The blood wasn't coming off very easily—he had to scrub until it stung.

Get off, get off, get off!

His skin was raw. He couldn't tell anymore if Thor's blood was still on him, or if his hands were just red from the scrubbing, or if he was bleeding, now. His hands hurt. His heart hurt.

I'm sorry.

The door opened. Loki hardly processed it. He kept scrubbing his hands with vigor. The water around his hands had turned pink.

"Loki!" Frigga's voice snapped him out of his daze and he looked over his shoulder to see her frozen in the doorway, staring at his back with wide eyes.

He turned to look at his back in the mirror. Between his right shoulder blade and his spine, there was a bruise deeper than any he had seen before, huge and dark purple. As he looked at it, Loki felt the ache amplify.

"You did not tell me you were hurt," Frigga chided, coming forward and frowning as she looked at his hands and plucked them from the water. She dried them with a fluffy towel.

"'S not so bad," Loki said, unable to meet her gaze.

"It looks like it hurts," she said. He nodded reluctantly. She picked up the tunic and a blanket that she had brought for him, and she wrapped the blanket around his shoulders.

"Let's go to Otnoa, and she will give you some ointment to make it feel better and you can see Thor. Then we'll get you dressed."

Loki stood, his hand wriggling out from the blanket and searching for hers. He managed a small smile when she held his hand.

"Okay."

A/N: Here is chapter 2! You may notice that some of Loki's internal thoughts are quite dark; I tend to think that Loki's self-destructive tendencies started when he was young and are a part of his personality, rather than starting in Thor. My little Loki also has GAD and occasional panic attacks-all of which will be expanded upon in later stories.

Please review!