It had been a week since Thor had told him he was going to sign up for war, and judging by the fact that he wasn't there anymore, he went off to that hotel in Ohio and to the base. He was being trained by mad men to be a mad man, holding a gun and running face first into the heat of the battle he did not belong in. He was chewing anxiously on the end of his pencil in the middle of Professor Romanova's class, thinking about the past few days. His father hadn't heckled him about not going to be in the business class with Thor, or said anything about the car. In fact, he hadn't even so much as received a phone call from the stingy old bastard he just so happened to have called "dad" for the past twenty years of his life. Fuck him for having been reincarnated from Odin Allfather, ruler of the nine realms in Norse mythology. Damn it all for himself being reincarnated from Loki Laufeyson, son of King Laufey who ruled over Jötunheim. He grumbled something in ancient Latin about having to be stuck with such luck in life before the thought of Tony clouded his mind. That boy was trying so hard to get Loki to like him, and by the gods he did, he just needed some space at this moment. Much to Tony's satisfaction, Loki was spending his nights in his dorm, too distressed to sleep in his own.
"Loki!" Professor Natalia snapped, trying to get his attention.
His head shot up and he dropped the pencil to the desk, making eye contact. "Da?"
"I know your brother joined the military recently but, you need to either pay attention in my class, or leave," She didn't mean it menacingly; she was just a strict professor having come from Russia.
He already knew today's lesson and probably the rest of the lessons for the entire semester, so he just nodded, grabbed his pencil, and left the room without a word. She shrugged it off and went back to teaching the others who weren't as profound in Russian as he was. As the door closed behind him and he stepped into the hall, he stood devastated, wishing he could talk to Thor. He felt horrible about the way he treated him, and it wasn't his fault that his dad took him away and sent him off to war. Technically, Thor was legally an adult and therefore didn't have to listen to their father anymore but, when was his older brother the one to disobey? Whatever daddy says goes, and that has how it had always been since they were young. Loki, on the other hand, grew out of it when he hit the teenage years and went through a rebellious phase. He stopped caring what Odin said, and would test his former father by pushing his limits. That got him grounded for four months, and he toned down the attitude and started respecting him more. He was sixteen, then. Thor, being eighteen, was still in the whole, "Odin says to jump, you ask how high" type of thing, being the kiss ass he always was. Their mother would always see the reincarnated thunder god as absolutely hilarious and the reincarnated god of mischief as someone who was level headed and mature beyond his age. He knew she secretly saw him as a favourite, and that is one reason why he hadn't disowned her.
Speaking of Frigga, he needed to pay her a visit, since he hadn't seen her since he moved to the University. She was probably worn out and upset over losing her actual blood to the fighting overseas, and even though he was still alive, she was more than likely acting like he wasn't. He trekked on to the courtyard, passed the young adults who seemed to not have gotten their teenage hormones under control, and over to the parking lot. He stopped dead in his tracks when he surveyed the nearly full lot, sighing to himself, and gripping the bridge of his nose. Car, right. Drama queen Odin is still pissed. He thought for a moment on how he would get home but, he figured he would have to walk. Ten miles wouldn't be too bad, he just wish he wouldn't have to do it. Maybe his knight in shining car would come to the rescue and drive him where he needed to go but, he didn't count on it, so he began the ten mile journey. Naturally, he would have just hailed a taxi but, dear old daddy cut him off, so no such luck.
Five miles into walking, he stopped at a gas station to get a bottle of water. Luckily he had a twenty on hand that wasn't in a card, so he could get a select few things. Scanning the cold area for water, he listened in on the cashier's conversation with two men. He grabbed a hold of a bottle of Aquafina before walking over to the front, watching the three converse. He eyed the man behind the counter, taking in every detail of him, shrugging when he was no person of interest to him. Just a simple guy trying to make ends meet from a low end gas station convenience store job. As he was about to take note of the other two, they were quickly running out before he could read anything from them. One collided with his shoulder, sending him a glare, and as he tried to read his eyes, the guy panicked and fled. It was almost like Loki meant something to him, like it was a big deal that they ran into each other. He went over the files in his head as he approached the counter, setting his bottle on the counter, coming up short in the people they could be. He handed the man the twenty dollar bill before he could ask for it, then listened as he talked.
"Would that be all?" He asked in an average voice, nothing too exciting, and nothing too boring.
"Yeah, uh, who were those guys?" Loki inquired curiously, eyes still glued to the door.
"The ones who just left? They're just some young men who I've been friends with for years. Simon and uh, Nathan," The guy responded, shrugging and giving him the change.
"Thanks," He told him, taking the change, receipt, and water, walking out of the place.
He looked around for the guys, wondering why "Simon and Nathan" sounded so familiar. The only Nathan he knew of was Professor Nathaniel De La Cruz, his literature professor back at the university in Norway. In the split second it took him to realise they were the people who robbed the bank and took Thor's car, they had drove up by him and pointed something his direction. It was a nine millimetre hand gun, and right when he registered what was going on, four shots rang out. He was a bit freaked out, though luckily enough for him, the one with the gun was a poor shot and no bullet hit him to his knowledge. He was frozen in terror, watching them speed off down the road, before the clerk from inside ran out to see what was going on. He felt a hand on his shoulder and he had to use all of his inner strength not to collapse on the ground. Loki gasped and turned his head to look at who it was, relaxing a bit when he noticed it was just the clerk.
"Are you okay, son?" The voice filled his ears and he nodded, walking over and sitting on the curb.
He felt his body begin to go into shock, skin becoming cool and clammy, feeling as if he needed to vomit, and his pupils were dilated. Little did he know a bullet actually had collided with his leg, piercing the skin and going through muscle but, not exiting. Within minutes, an ambulance and fire truck had arrived, and someone was putting a blanket around his shoulders, while someone else was shining a light into his eyes. They gave him a once over and put him onto a stretcher and loaded him into the ambulance. He had stayed relatively calm, only complaining about a pain in his leg, and when they saw blood seeping through his skinny jeans, they took a pair of trauma scissors and cut his pants off. Pressure was applied with bandages and he nearly screamed from the pain while the Paramedic was working on getting an IV into his vein. They dumped both morphine and saline into his body, easing the pain and giving him fluids. He realised in seconds that the person tending to his wound was a fire fighter, and his head fell to the side to stare at the medic who was asking him questions like if he knew where he was, what had happened, and if he knew who the president was. Common questions to assess for any possible brain damage, which he answered all correctly. A pulse ox was put over his finger to monitor his heart along with EKG pads, and a glucose monitor was pricked into his finger to make sure his blood sugar wasn't too low or high, as they sped off to the nearest trauma hospital. Loki narrowed his eyes against the brightness of the lights in the back of the rig, happy that he wasn't feeling much pain anymore due to the pain killer that was administered.
Everything was going so fast that he didn't realise they were at the hospital until he was being unloaded from the back of the ambulance and being wheeled into the waiting emergency room. The paramedic and EMT were explaining that he was a twenty year old male with a gunshot wound to his left leg, no exit wound, and he had gone into shock. He was just staring at everyone and everything as he was quickly rushed into an operating room to remove the bullet or shards if it splintered, and the last thing he heard before he was put under was something about stopping the bleeding before they operated. They successfully extracted five pieces of the bullet and left the other bits in, as they did not need to be removed. There were no complications and he was sewn up perfectly fine, leaving him with a nice scar for the future. The surgery took a total of three hours, and he was brought to a recovery room until he woke. He was laying on a white hospital bed, with white sheets, pillow, in the middle of a white room, and dressed in a white gown. How sanitary. He woke slowly, narrowing his eyes, like he did in the ambulance, against the lights. Couldn't people be respectful enough to turn them off? He groaned, staring straight ahead of him, wondering why it seemed the napkins on the nurse's desk across the way was dancing, and what the hell was that cartoon elephant doing? He sighed, flinging an arm across his eyes, knowing it was just the effects of the anaesthesia messing with his head. Loki was alone in the room, attached to an IV and heart monitor again, listening to the slow beep of his heart and the drip from the saline.
Around ten minutes later, a nurse came in to check to make sure he was doing well, unsure if he had woken up or not. She offered him a warm smile, which he half-ass returned, still not feeling himself. His throat felt odd because of a breathing tube that was led down his throat during the surgery so he could, well, breathe. She checked his papers and marked something on the board on the left side of him, before checking the intravenous line, nodding to him slowly. She hadn't spoken yet, but, he figured she was just busy doing her job. She gave him another smile as she slowly pulled the blanket and his gown back, examining the wound to make sure there was nothing wrong with the sutures. He noted her cherry red hair, soft green eyes, prominent jaw line which was a bit odd for a female of her small size, delicate looking hands which pale green nail polish adorned, and a necklace resting against her chest that had a sapphire in it. He wanted to compliment it, having found it beautiful but, when he opened his mouth to speak, everything came out very raspy. He furrowed his eyebrows, looking at her, clearing his throat and grimacing at the scratchiness of it. She cocked an eyebrow at him as he swallowed and licked his dry lips, watching for a moment before reading his heart monitor.
"I like your neck...necklace," He finally got out, smiling at her somewhat.
She offered him a smile of thanks and ducked out, mentioning something about the doctor coming in soon to check on him. His eyes travelled to the white board that still hung on the wall saying what hospital he was in, his name, the doctor's name – Bruce Banner, the nurse's name – Krista Hokape, something about why he was here (he couldn't make out the chicken scratch), and smiley faces with numbers under them to dictate how he was feeling. Loki nodded to himself, deciding he was at a two, mostly to cover the discomfort he was in from his throat and the stitches on his leg. There wasn't really any pain, just what he described. His eyes moved up to check the date, which was still the same day, June twenty-sixth, 2013. He sighed a bit, adjusting himself so he was half lying on his side, with his legs in roughly the same position. His feet were bare and cold, causing him to shiver and curl up the best he could as to not agitate the stitches. About the moment the doctor came in, he realised how alone in the room he really was. His father wasn't there, his mother wasn't there, Thor wasn't there, Tony wasn't there; wait, why should he care if that kid came? He shook off the thought as he eyed the doctor who approached his bedside and gave him a smile. Why is everyone so seemingly friendly here? If you really wanted to appear friendly, you would hop off the damned Prozac and try to be nice.
"Good evening, Mister Loki Odinson. I am Dr. Banner, and I was the one who performed the surgery on your leg. You're quite a lucky man, the bullet just barely grazed your femoral artery," The doctor told him, looking over the same papers Krista did.
Loki looked at him before correcting with, "Loki Laufeyson, sir,"
He raised an eyebrow at him before apologising, and continuing. "The surgery was successful and you had a good recovery. Granted, it took two hours for you to wake but, that is common for teenagers and people of your age,"
Loki just sighed and nodded, waiting for him to finish with what he was talking about. He noted the brown-grey short hair, average reading glasses, brown eyes that weren't as amazing as Tony's, clad in a purple dress shirt and blue jeans. He let out a soft shaky breath and adjusted himself again, finding himself somewhat attracted to the doctor. He scolded himself as he heard the beeping of his monitor go up, blushing a tad, earning a light chuckle from Bruce. That caused his blush to deepen and the monitor beep faster, and he growled lowly, getting somewhat defensive. He hated when people messed with him like that, and he would have yanked his hair off of his head if he wasn't in a hospital. He wasn't attracted enough to desire anything more than a stare or two; he inadvertently was infatuated with the infamous Anthony Stark. He ran his hand through his hair as he watched Doctor Bruce Banner mimic Krista's actions and mark something on the board, before walking back over to him. He hovered a moment before uncovering him a bit and moving the gown aside like the nurse, examining the sewn bullet hole. He tensed at what he was doing, shooting him a near death glare, grinding his teeth before the doctor stood up and smiled.
"All good, here, you should be able to leave the hospital in a couple days. All though, the police wish to speak to you about the shooting," He nodded to him before leaving, apparently allowing the officers to come in.
A female and male cop both entered, eyeing him and looking him over a moment, nodding slowly to each other. He relaxed so he wouldn't freak them out, waiting for them to bombard him with questions out the wazoo. They were silent as they went over his papers, seeming for it to be a routine with everyone who so much as stepped foot into his room. Of course they wanted to make sure they had the right patient and knowing more about what had happened from professional documents. The woman made her way over to his side and sat in the chair next to him, glancing at her partner who had now taken out paperwork to get his report. She was sitting calmly with an exception to the slight tenseness she had from being an officer. That was expected, she didn't know what could go down, and she had to be prepared. Loki looked over at her gun, Taser, then to her handcuffs, and finally some mace which was almost nearly hidden. It was clever but, not clever enough for the reincarnated god with Sherlock-like ways to be unseen by.
"My name is Officer Burkshire, and this is Sergeant Davidson. We are here to take a report on the shooting that occurred earlier today around noon. Do you recall this incident?" She asked, motioning to her partner.
"Yeah, I was at a gas station getting some water, when I noticed two men around the age of twenty-seven purchasing something. I overheard bits and pieces of their conversation, and when I approached to check out, they saw me and bolted. One ran into me, so when they left, I inquired the attendant about them, and he told me they were Nathan and Simon. The names sounded a bit familiar to me, so I went outside to see if I could find them. Once I realised they were the ones who stole my brother's car, they had pulled around and Nathan shot four rounds at me before speeding off. They were in a blue Nissan LEAF, the license plate number being AEC02105, of Norwegian make," He explained clearly in his American accent which he had been using for a while.