When Bruce awoke early that morning, the first thought that came to his mind was the screaming. The sobbing. The tormenting agony, coming from the third room in the second hall.
Thor.
He grabbed his robes, slipped the bunnies on his feet, and padded determinedly across the halls. He and Steve had stabilized the Thunderer that night with large amounts of strong sedatives, and Bruce wanted to make sure that Thor hadn't somehow broken out of it again—
He opened the door, and was relieved to see that nothing seemed out of hand.
Except for one thing.
Sunlight streamed down from the glass wall and hit Thor's sleeping, smiling face.
But it shone with freshly shed tears.
He bit his lip. Decided that to leave Thor in the realm of dreams while he could. Before a panged Bruce closed the door, however, he heard Thor utter it softly—happily?—the name he'd been screaming the night before.
"Loki..."