Taylor's blood was soaking liquid fire into his pants, and it was making Loki's stomach roil violently. While he should have been focused on the army surrounding them, his attention was instead on the fine tremble that had begun throughout her body from fatigue. Loki himself was struggling with his fading strength, but he was determined to support Taylor as best he could. The tense conversation passing between Thor, Steve, and the general of Helheim's army became background noise with her fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt and her lithe body pressed into his side.

"You, there. Woman."

Only two women on the team, and the general was not looking at Natasha. Taylor came to attention like a well-trained soldier, and levelled the fire giant with a steady gaze that she was desperately trying to keep from glazing over from exhaustion. Loki wondered how long she would last, especially since her wound had yet to stop bleeding. He shifted slightly, pressing his leg into hers to staunch some of the blood flow.

"It's Taylor," she corrected without a hint of the tiredness she must have felt, "Taylor Cadence…of Midgard."

"You're mistaken," the general replied flatly, "if only partially. You are of Helheim."

She jerked back so violently, Loki nearly lost his grip on her. All eyes locked onto her immediately, each expression one of confusion, including his. Taylor herself looked wildly perplexed by the bold assertion. Loki's mind initially scoffed at such a notion, but another part treacherously reminded him of what he was, how it had been a secret even to him for so very long. Perhaps Taylor was not so dissimilar to him.

"Excuse me?" she sputtered, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I recognize one of our own—even a half-breed," the last part was said with just enough distaste to make her raise an eyebrow, "likely one of your parents was exiled to Midgard."

So it seemed exile to Earth was a popular punishment in any realm, but the important question was if it had brought about Taylor's conception. Loki had reflected when they'd first arrived in Helheim that she would belong—but that train of thought had only been instigated because of the nature of her powers. While she seemed perfectly comfortable in Helheim, it had never occurred to him that it may be because she was half fire giant.

"That is not possible," Thor interrupted, "both of Taylor's parents are of Midgard."

"That is incorrect. How else could she withstand this terrain so easily? How else could she control fire and light?"

Loki glanced at Taylor, and noted the uncertainty beginning to crowd her features. Noticing his gaze on her, she met his eyes, and in the cool depths he could see conflict raging within her. She captured her bottom lip between her teeth for a moment before she spoke up.

"I was adopted when I was a baby…it's possible that one of my biological parents was from Helheim."

The revelation seemed to surprise only Loki. For everyone else, it was as though they were just remembering. Morons.

"That's right," Tony said with a frown, "you were one of those children mysteriously left on the doorstep, according to your file."

She shrugged slightly, eyes slanting away from theirs as she considered.

"Guess that answers that question I never really wanted answered."

Loki shot her a skeptical sideways look, but before any more could be said, the general spoke up again.

"Asgardians are not welcome in Helheim without an escort, and you were warned of this the last time you came here, Son of Odin. It is my duty as general of Helheim's army to arrest you and your compatriots."

As one unit, they tensed, prepared to spring at any moment despite the battle they'd already fought. Loki knew it would be a useless fight—they all did. They were outnumbered and outgunned. Perhaps they might have been able to manage it were they not already tired and injured from their fight with Sigyn and her cohorts. At the moment though, they stood no chance against an entire army.

"Look, we were only using Helheim as a bridge," Steve tried, "Keziah's apprentice is planning something and we were trying to stop her. Every world could be in trouble if you don't let us leave. Please."

Taylor's hand tightened in the fabric of Loki's shirt as the fire giant shook his head, almost mournfully.

"You are not to be in Helheim without an escort—I am honor-bound to turn you in," he repeated, and then turned his glowing eyes on Taylor again, "however, it appears you may have an escort with you."

Taylor frowned, eyebrows scrunching together quizzically.

"What are you trying to say?" she demanded.

"If you can defeat one of my men in battle, you will be of equal standing to a full bred, and you will serve as an acceptable escort to your friends. Do you understand?"

Taylor's breath rushed out of her all at once and she nodded enthusiastically, even as Loki's stomach dropped with dread. She was in no condition to be fighting. Her leg was bleeding, bruises were already forming a ring around her neck, and she could barely stand upright on her own without Loki's assistance. How could she possibly be expected to fight a well-trained, well-rested soldier? The expressions on the other Avengers faces clearly echoed his thoughts.

"Very well. Prepare yourself," the general said, and turned to speak to his men.

Taylor's friends all flocked around her as she attempted to stand without Loki for support, favoring the leg with the deep cut.

"Taylor, you're in no condition to be doing this," Bruce began.

"I have to," she replied, sucking a breath between her teeth, "I can do this. I'll be fine."

"You're bleeding everywhere," Natasha observed, voice heavy with concern.

Taylor glanced down as if seeing the wound for the first time. Determination painted her features as she shot looks at Tony and Bruce.

"What's the temperature for cauterization?"

"Taylor..."

"I'm losing a lot of blood. Cauterizing it is the best option right now. How hot does it have to be, Bruce?"

He sighed heavily and rubbed at his eyes, but it was resigned and worry laced his voice as he answered.

"About 2200 degrees Fahrenheit, or 1204 degree Celsius. Do you think you can manage it?"

She let out a breath before nodding.

"Okay, let's do this," she said with finality, tone becoming authoritative in a way that was very similar to Steve's, "Loki, I'll need you to help support me. Bruce, you'll have to tell me when to stop—bodies aren't my thing."

She paused and gazed at the others, her eyes resting on Bucky again for a moment before she set her jaw. Loki admired her resolve, but even he wasn't sure about this plan of hers. Nevertheless, he adjusted his stance as she leaned her back against his chest. She raised the hand closest to the open wound, her fingertips beginning to glow red-hot before fading to white. Steve moved closer, holding onto her free hand in solidarity.

"Here," Natasha added, handing her a wad of cloth, "fireproof skin or not, you're gonna want this, Tay."

Taylor allowed her to shove the ball of cloth between her teeth and without waiting further, pressed her fingers into her flesh.

Taylor had been through a lot in her life, and she liked to think of herself as a pretty tough cookie, but never in her life had she had to cauterize a wound before, and damn did it smart. She was grateful for Natasha's foresight, her screaming was muffled by the cloth and by her desire not to be a total weenie. She was also thankful for Loki, because the leg that had been supporting her gave out as soon as she touched her leg. Steve was regretting the offer of his hand at that moment she was sure—Taylor had no idea how hard she was squeezing, but knew it couldn't have been pleasant for him either. It felt like hours, but a few moments later, Bruce was batting her hand away, telling her that she'd done enough.

As the burn faded she straightened up and shook it off. She had a mission to complete, friends to protect, there was no time to be whining about a little blister. She turned to leave but Loki caught her arm and jerked her back, whispering something in a language she didn't understand. A moment later, her body suddenly came alive as energy and adrenaline filled her veins with electricity. She blinked up at him, stunned into silence as the pain dissipated to almost nothing and her mind cleared and sharpened.

"This should be of some aid, but it will not last longer than fifteen minutes, so you would do best not to drag this out, yes?"

She nodded, eternally grateful that she and Loki were on terms well enough that he thought to help her. Reinvigorated, she rolled an imaginary knot out of her shoulder and approached the huge ring of fire giants that had been formed while she'd been performing impromptu first-aid. She met the general's gaze from the other side of the circle.

"Alright, let's get this show on the road," she declared loudly, settling her hands on her hips, "who's my unfortunate victim?"

The general stepped forward and for a terrified moment, she thought he was volunteering himself, but then he nodded to another soldier. It was hard to determine differences between individuals, considering all of them looked basically like lava monsters to her, but she knew that it wouldn't be a walk in the park. For one, he was huge—at least two or three feet taller than her, and easily twice as wide. Besides that, she was exhausted and pained where he was not.

"The match will last as long as you both are able to fight," the general paused and settled her with a look to impress the full weight of his words on her, "if you lose, I will be bound by honor to detain you and your friends."

Taylor nodded her understanding and squared her shoulders. Bucky couldn't hold out in a prison cell somewhere in his condition. She needed to get him back to Asgard, she needed to get them all back to Asgard. She'd been presented with a rare opportunity, a freaking freebie she was not about to waste it.

"Call it whenever," she said, dropping down in her fighting stance, "I'm ready."


Taylor blinked awake as soon as she became aware of someone else in the room with her. She was in a lot of pain still, but the Asgardian doctors had done a hell of a good job patching her up again after the fight in Helheim. The battle had lasted longer than she'd expected or wanted it to. Even though Loki's spell had worn off about three-quarters of the way through, she'd won, but not without nearly collapsing at its conclusion.

True to his word, the general of Helheim's army had released them and the beam from the Bifrost had jettisoned them back to safety as soon as she was decided the victor. After that, everything came to her in patches of consciousness and sweet oblivion while the doctors had cleaned her up. She'd only been resting a few hours or so when she sensed someone enter her room, almost completely silent. If she weren't so used to listening for Clint and Natasha, she probably wouldn't have detected them at all.

"You should be resting," Loki murmured and Taylor pretended a little thrill didn't go through her to see him.

"So should you," she replied, offering up the least pained smile she could muster and shifting to give him room to sit at the edge of the bed.

He settled carefully next to her, his eyes quickly scanning over her visible bandages. He didn't look too much better off himself, she thought with chagrin. There were just as many wraps and stitches on him as there were on her, which was saying something. She looked like she'd been thrown in blender set on puree.

"What did the doctors say?" he asked.

"Oh, the usual. I made a mess of the cauterization. I'm going to drive them to early graves. I'm lucky to be alive. Nothing new. What about you?"

"The same, more or less."

She giggled, but her fractured ribs protested immediately and vigorously, and she couldn't hide her wince. The concern that etched itself into his features as soon as he registered her grimace was enough to make her grin like an idiot and risk splitting her lip open again.

"Are you in pain?" he inquired.

He raised a hand as if to offer her some sort of comfort, but it remained suspended indecisively in the air, and Taylor wondered why she so badly wanted him to go through with it. She craved his touch for some reason—even something innocuous, like his hand in hers or touching her shoulder. Anything would have done at that moment, but he made no move towards her and she couldn't convince herself to encourage him.

"Yeah, a little," she admitted reluctantly.

Everything hurt acutely, actually, but she wasn't about to say anything about it. She'd been through worse—at least she kept telling herself that.

"Here," he murmured and his hand settled gently over her forehead for a moment.

The pain receded all at once and she breathed a sigh of relief as her muscles, tense from the discomfort, began to release at long last. His hand dropped from her forehead to her cheek and she couldn't bring herself to mind in the least that his skin was cooler than she would usually tolerate. There was something incredibly reassuring about having him so close, a physical support while her friends were separated from her, still getting care or resting in separate rooms.

"Thank you," she murmured, and those two words were packed with far more emotion than she'd intended.

"Taylor, I," he cut off abruptly searching her face for something, "you…I've never seen anything like you."

She managed another laugh, this time without feeling pain explode through her torso, and touched the hand closest to hers, supporting himself on the bed.

"You'd be surprised how often I hear that," she joked.

A smile tugged at his lips, one of those genuine infectious ones that made her insides feel like she'd taken a shot of pure lightening. He leaned closer and her organs spontaneously combusted and she suddenly realized what exactly was going on. Oh no. Oh, this couldn't be happening. She took a deep breath as he leaned closer, touching his forehead lightly to hers. She had a mission to complete, a world to save, but damn if she couldn't remember what it was at the moment.

"When we first met, I thought that your strength was an illusion. I assumed wrongly of you and of your character. For that, I sincerely apologize," he began.

She felt her chest constrict as he straightened just enough that he could look her in the eyes again, and her breath caught when his thumb stroked tenderly over cheek. Even if she'd had something to say, she couldn't have, with the way her throat seemed to close up at his words. She had no idea where he was going with this, and part of her was inexplicably afraid to find out, but another, larger and louder part of her, wanted very badly for him to continue.

"I cannot fathom what is in your past that chains you down and keeps you trapped in the darkness like it does," she felt tears well in her eyes even though she knew he couldn't know—not for certain anyway, "but I know that you are the strongest person I have ever had the pleasure of meeting, Taylor, and I know that you are stronger than it as well."

The tears slipped out without her permission, a quiet sob escaping her before she curled her fingers into the fabric of his shirt and jerked him closer. Their lips met somewhat gracelessly, and she was clumsy with inexperience, but luckily he knew what he was doing once he got over the shock of her initiating contact. The hand that had been on her face moved to her hair as he held himself over her to avoid injuring her further, and her world shrunk down to just the two of them, and the way Loki's mouth felt on hers.

He teased along her bottom lip and she gladly opened her mouth to him, their tongues dancing like they'd been partners all their lives. He tasted cool and spicy and even better than her mind had ever imagined. Something began burning low in her belly that had nothing to do with her powers and her mind went pleasantly blank, like when she woke up late in the morning after a mission that lasted over 24 hours. He easily led the kiss and she submitted to him willingly, a low moan escaping her throat when he nibbled gently at her lip, minding the freshly closed cut. It was a small moment of heaven, of peace, and the world could have come crashing down around them for all she cared. And then someone cleared their throat. Loudly.

"I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"