"Shut up, you idiots! You're gonna wake Reindeer Games!"

Loki heard muffled sounds and sat up, pushing the blanket off of his legs. He turned around to see Tony, Natasha, and Thor arguing quietly in the dim kitchen. Natasha noticed him first, straightening up and flashing him a quick smile.

"Hey, Loki. How are you feeling? You were asleep for 8 hours." Natasha said, causing Tony and Thor to stop bickering and look around.

Loki was baffled. 8 hours?! The last time he had slept for that long was when he was 15 after a massive hangover caused by drinking an obscene amount of vodka. He never slept that long. He was always interrupted by a nightmare, and couldn't go back to sleep for fear that it would come back.

"I didn't... wake up in the night?" Thor and Natasha shook their heads, while Tony rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed. Before the others had gotten up, Loki had had several panic attacks in his sleep, arms and legs flailing, screaming in terror of some unseen creature, hands raised in surrender as he whimpered for mercy. Only when Tony had stroked his hair and rubbed his back comfortingly, or when he whispered words of reassurance in his ear, did Loki calm down. After two such episodes, Tony just lay next to Loki on the couch, writing down ideas for inventions on the coffee table and carding his fingers through Loki's hair with his free hand. Tony turned to the pot of coffee and poured himself a cup, spiking it slightly with triple sec and vodka. He killed time by adding a few espresso beans to the top and turned to see Natasha punch Thor in the nose. Thor doubled over in pain, clutching his face as blood spurted from his nostrils.

"Tasha! Honestly, do I have to keep you on a leash?" Yelled Clint, charging in from the hallway at Thor's roars of pain. Natasha just looked too smug for her own good and let Climt pull her away. Jane had rushed in with Clint, sighed as she saw Thor curled up in a ball on the floor, yelling in pain, and pulled out her phone to dial 911, as it was clear from the swelling and blood that it was broken. Loki was nowhere to be seen, so Tony walked over to where Natasha and Clint were sitting.

"Okay, Tasha, what brought this on?" Tony sighed. Natasha grimaced.

"Thor was going on about how Loki can't sleep because he has nightmares, how he was a sissy when they were little, how he still has nightmares-that's Loki's business, nobody else's."

Tony nodded wearily, then stood to go retrieve his coffee from the counter. He was startled at the least to see Loki sitting on the counter in his sweatshirt and sweatpants, daintily sipping Tony's coffee with his legs crossed, smiling venomously. Tony hadn't even begun to speak when Loki hopped down and laughed.

"Thanks for the coffee, Stark," Loki said as he began walking back to the room he shared with Steve. He opened the door and found Steve nowhere in sight, probably out with Peggy. Loki let his facade drop into a weary scowl, erasing the alluring smile that everybody probably thought was real, but to him felt like a shoddy imitation of the one he had once been able to muster that was now a long forgotten memory. Loki poured the coffee down the bathroom sink, having tasted the alcohol when he sipped it for show. A convincing way to fool anyone who thought that Loki was weak or in need of help. Loki walked back to his room, dragging his feet. He walked to the easel by the small window and pulled out a small box of paint. He opened a tube of blue and swept at it with a large paintbrush. Loki dabbed at the canvas and began to paint out the pain. Sweeping arcs of blue with silver undertones and crimson patches that pooled like blood filled the canvas as the hours slipped by. Loki left only to order a pizza and to use the bathroom. He was about to fill in the last corner when his phone began to ring. Loki stiffened as the voicemail picked it up. Yet again, it was Odin.

"I know you're listening, Loki. You're a fucking disgrace to me, you retard. The only reason you got into college was because of your pussy art scholarship. Gay faggot, you're useless. Nobody wants you. You should just die, because nobody cares about you. Not even Frigga. She thinks you're useless too. You only get acceptable grades at school because you're a cock-sucking faggot, and you use your slutty ways to get into teacher's pants. You pussy. You should just die, you monster." Odin's gravelly voice stopped as the voicemail ended. Loki stopped holding back tears, letting them fall in rivulets down his cheeks as he sank to his knees. The paintbrush fell to the ground with him and Loki felt the stabbing pain in his sides. But he deserved the pain. Because he was useless. A faggot.

A monster.