When I arrived at the palace steps, half crumbled and scattered with filth and debris, I limped my way in between the wounded, healers and dead bodies and went inside without acknowledging anyone. After I had wandered down the hallway, only vaguely aware of where I was, a voice called out to me urgently. "Ellie!" I looked up slowly as a blond man pushed his way through the crowd towards me and threw his arms around my neck in a strong hug. It took a moment for me to respond, sluggishly lifting my arms and curling my fingers in Eric's shirt. "Where have you been?" he demanded, pulling back to look at me. "Why weren't you answering your comms? We've been trying to contact you since the ships blew up! Where's Jamie?" I gasped sharply, looking at Phillips's husband regretfully.
"Eric… I… I'm so sorry," I whispered as his face paled and his eyes widened in dread.
"He… he's not…"
"Gone," I stated firmly, thinning my lips and staring into his eyes. "Killed protecting me; I didn't even see it coming… I couldn't do anything… I don't know what happened… I'm so sorry, Eric."

I expected him to push me away, blame me for his loss, scream at me and tell me he never wanted to see me again. Instead, he pulled me against his chest, buried his face in my hair, and started sobbing, squeezing me tightly. I stayed still, patting his back and ignoring the moisture dripping down my scalp and the aching in my battle-worn body. Eventually, Eric stopped crying so violently and released me, sniffling and wiping his face on his sleeve. "Sorry, El," he mumbled, breathing shakily. "I'm just… a bit shocked…"
"So am I," I sighed, rubbing at my eyes. "Don't apologise, Sweetie. I understand."
"No you don't," Eric denied, giving me a pitying look. "You've never married; you don't understand. You're just a child." I took a deep breath, blinking in surprise that Eric would say something like that to me as if I did not love as deeply as he did, and he stepped forward to press a kiss against my scalp before walking away silently.

I shook my head with a frown, groaning in pain and exhaustion before taking a deep breath and squaring my shoulders, lifting my head defiantly and stalking towards in infirmary with purpose. When I turned into the room, I found that the outer doors had been opened and canopies erected to expand the space for the influx of wounded warriors. I caught the arm of a passing healer and looked her in the eyes intently. "Where is Loki Laufeyson?" I questioned in a low, serious tone. The healer turned and pointed to one of the screened-off sections.
"He's in there; they're having trouble getting him to submit and allow them to remove the arrows."
"Yeah, that sounds like Loki," I huffed, releasing the healer and slipping through the crowd to reach the partitions and enter. The three healers contained within turned to look at me sharply.
"Who are you? What are you doing in here?" one of them queried sternly.

"Ellie!" Loki groaned and I shoved past one of the healers to stand at his bedside, looking him over with a worried frown.
"Loki," I murmured gently, crouching by the bed and stroking his hair, squeezing his shoulder.
"You're alive," he panted, giving me a strained, yet genuine, smile. "I've been asking; no-one knew what happened to you."
"I blew up command and Asgard's enemies bugged out," I told Loki with a grin. "It was a good plan."
"It could have got you killed," Loki growled, arching his back and gritting his teeth, squeezing his eyes shut as a wave of pain wracked his body. I looked on helplessly, bowing my head to rest my forehead against his.
"It could have, but it didn't… Loki, you need help. Why won't you let the healers help you?" Loki sagged against the bed again, panting heavily, swallowing dryly as I straightened again.

"I had to know where you were," he rasped. "I had to know if I had sent you to your death."
"You didn't send me, Loki. I defied you. I do that a lot." Loki laughed weakly.
"Only you could get away with that." I smiled, nodding.
"I know. But why did you have to wait for me?" Loki took a deep, shuddering breath.
"When they put me under, I might not waken again. I had to know what had happened to you before that." I wanted to argue, to tell Loki to think positive, but I was battered and bruised in more ways than one, and I recognised the truth of his words. Instead of protesting, I took a deep breath and met his eyes steadily.
"I am alive, our enemies are vanquished, and I am safe, Loki. Mission accomplished. Quest successful. Battle ended. Now sleep," I droned soothingly. One of the healers approached with a syringe and gave Loki an injection into the side of his neck. Loki hissed, blinking up at me as his pale green eyes started to turn glassy and his eyelids grew heavy. I smiled at him affectionately, pressing a kiss to his forehead and stroking his hair. "Go to sleep, Loki. You need your rest." Loki's eyelids fluttered closed and his breathing evened out.

"Miss, you need to leave now. We'll take care of your friend," the only female healer told me, taking me by the shoulders and guiding me from the room.
"Wait," I protested, pulling from her grasp and turning back to the bed. "I'll take his personal belongings, if he has any on him. He'll want them safe." One of the healer's sighed as the other cut through Loki's leather armour and tunic to reveal his wounded torso. I flinched at the sight of the arrows stuck into him like a macabre pincushion as the female healer looked through the folds of his clothing, producing nothing but a sheet of paper. I blinked at the oddity of that, taking it when offered and leaving the room placidly. "Thank you," I acknowledged absently. The healer nodded in reply, offering me a serene smile before disappearing back inside as I stared at the paper. Paper; not parchment. I unfolded the well-worn page carefully and huffed in astonishment as I read…
My Dear Loki,
I know this missive will not reach you, but writing this simply helps me to release my feelings…

I reached into my bra, the safest place I had, and pulled out a small slip of parchment, unfolding it and running my thumb over the words inked there…
He Knows…
I took a deep breath, folding both notes and tucking them into my top again, looking around to search for any familiar faces. I started wandering through the infirmary, peering at all the wounded as I went until a familiar voice groaned and I looked around quickly. A dark-gold mop of hair caught my attention and I pushed my way through the bustling bodies until I reached the bedside and took hold of the limp hand. "Steve!" I exclaimed, cupping his face and staring at him anxiously as his beautiful eyes opened slightly and focused on me.
"Ellie; you're alive," he whispered breathlessly. I smiled gently, giggling softly.
"You seem so surprised," I remarked.
"They told me Loki was here," he moaned, crushing my hand in his and trembling. "Nobody said anything about you, but if Loki was here… You were with him, Ellie. He was meant to protect you."

"That is why he's here, Steve," I informed him darkly. "Too many people are too concerned with protecting me. I am just another soldier." Steve snorted, smirking faintly.
"You never were, El. I think you know that." I looked down, thinning my lips unhappily.
"Well maybe I should have been," I muttered bitterly. Steve choked suddenly, squirming in pain and I looked at him with concern, peeling his torn uniform away from the ragged flesh of his shoulder. "Have you been tended to yet?" I inquired. Steve shook his head.
"There are soldiers worse off than me, El. I'm not in immediate danger."
"You are if we don't control this bleeding," I refuted sternly, pulling my hand from his and stalking over to the nearest healer. "Where are the bandages, and what do you have for pain relief?" I asked without preamble.

"Over by that far wall," the healer said, nodding her indication. "There are plants there, the leaves of which are powerful analgesics."
"And what sort of dose would I give to a Midgardian?" I asked.
"Someone your size? Half a leaf."
"What about a decent-sized adult male?"
"A full leaf; perhaps a leaf and a half depending on body mass."
"And the leaves are administered…"
"Orally; have them chew and swallow."
"Thank you," I acknowledged, rushing away to fetch the necessary equipment. I returned to Steve's bedside with an armful of bandages and a handful of leaves. I took one and tore another in half, offering them to him. "Chew and swallow; these are pain relievers," I ordered, dumping the bandages on his lap and shoving the rest of the leaves into an empty pouch on my belt.

Steve did as he was told and the tension started to leave him almost immediately. I took some of the bandages and pushed them into the gaping wound, pressing firmly to stop the bleeding before binding it firmly. "Can you wriggle your fingers?" Steve nodded, wriggling, and I nodded. "Listen, Sweetie, I would love to stay with you, but they'll need all the help they can get here…"
"Go, El. I'll be fine; help the others." I smiled, bending and pressing a kiss to Steve's cheek before turning and swiftly weaving my way through the crowd. It was selfish of me, but I wanted to see if there were any more of my friends in amongst the wounded before I set to work properly. That was how I found Clint, Natasha beside him, pressing a bloody cloth to his head.
"What happened?" I wondered anxiously, taking in his pallid complexion and trembling body. Natasha looked up at me briefly before returning her gaze to Clint.
"They found us. We lost a few people, but we managed to fend them off until the Chitauri collapsed and the rest of them retreated."

"Huh. You'd think the Chitauri would have fixed that flaw by now," I drawled.
"What flaw?" Natasha wondered without looking away from Clint.
"Take out the mothership and render the soldiers useless," I shrugged. Natasha blinked, looking up at me again, but it was not she who spoke next.
"You took out the mothership?" I met Clint's gaze and smiled, nodding.
"Yep. Proud of me?"
"Very," Clint confirmed, holding out a shaking arm towards me. I bent, tucking my shoulders under the limb and setting my head on his shoulder where he could kiss my head affectionately.
"Any idea where Bucky is?" I asked after a few moments.
"Hiding somewhere," Natasha shrugged. "I'm sure he needs some quiet to recover now." I nodded understandingly, straightening.
"Well, I'm going to get to work. Do you need anything?" Both assassins shook their heads, smiling at me weakly.
"Are you sure you're okay, Ellie? You look like you've been through a lot," Natasha asked. I smirked, laughing faintly.
"Haven't we all?" I wondered lowly, slipping away before either assassin could say anything more.

I was at work in the infirmary for hours, giving pain medication, strapping breaks, and stopping bleeding; always moving, always busy, never pausing until the world around me tilted and I fell to my knees in between two beds. I blinked rapidly, trying to right myself as my weak limbs failed and I crumbled onto the floor again, breathing raggedly as tears threatened to overwhelm me. Gentle hands caught my shoulders and I looked up into a familiar face. "Sif," I gasped.
"You've done more than enough, Ellie. Come with me; you need rest." I nodded my agreement, not that I could resist as she lifted me to my feet and practically carried me from the wards, through the corridors and to my own room. Once there, she sat me down on the bed and went to the bathroom, running the bath for me. When it was full, she came back, took me into the bathroom, and left, shutting the doors behind herself. I awkwardly peeled off my sticky, tatty uniform and slipped gracelessly into the blissfully warm bath, sighing in relief as the rose-scented waters soothed my aching, exhausted form, slowly dissolving the grime and blood from my battered skin.

When the water started to cool, I used what little strength I had reclaimed to climb from the bath and wrap myself in a bathrobe, leaving the bathroom and falling, still soaking-wet, onto the bed, willingly letting sleep take me. I awoke what must have been hours later to a gentle tapping on my door. I tried to tell the person knocking to come in, but my tongue was thick with weariness, and all I managed was a wordless noise. The doorknob turned anyway and Bruce peeked in, blinking behind his spectacles. "Bruce," I sighed after freeing my tongue, sitting up clumsily.
"Sif told me you were in here; I thought we could eat together." I nodded and he slipped inside with two bowls of stew on a tray. Setting it down on the covers, he climbed onto the bed beside me, our sides touching as we each claimed a bowl and started eating in silence. As the food started to reawaken my sluggish thoughts, I noted that Bruce was clean and dressed, still smelling faintly of musk, so he must have bathed recently, as I had.

"Who sent you from the infirmary?" I wondered between mouthfuls. Bruce blinked at me.
"Did you see me there?" I shook my head.
"Didn't have to. I know you, Bruce. You'll not sit back while people need help. You couldn't, any more than I could." Bruce smiled at me warmly.
"You have a very kind view of me, don't you?"
"I know you," I repeated firmly. Bruce sighed tiredly, rubbing his eye.
"Natasha made me leave. She's even more convincing than you are, you know."
"She's prettier than I am," I responded thoughtlessly. "She knows how to use it." Bruce paused, looking up at me sharply.

"Do you honestly believe that?" he inquired softly.
"Believe what?"
"Do you honestly believe that Natasha is prettier than you are?" I nodded easily, shrugging.
"Honestly and truly. I don't look like Tasha."
"No, you don't. But you are pretty, Pet."
"Oh, don't get me wrong; I am not unhappy with my looks!" I assured Bruce earnestly. "I just think Natasha is prettier."
"Then you're wrong," Bruce said simply, making me blink. "There is nothing wrong with you, Ellie. You are every bit as pretty as Natasha is." I thought about that for a moment, uncertain.
"You really think so?"
"I really do," Bruce confirmed. I smiled at him fondly.
"Love you, too, Bruce." He chuckled softly, a faint blush creeping into his cheeks as he returned his attention to his food. I did the same, still smiling contentedly.

For the next few days, Bruce and I worked with Asgard's healers to help the wounded. It was hard work, not only because of the physical strain, but because we couldn't save them all… I couldn't save the world; no matter how I might wish to… I checked in on Loki every day; asked the healers about him. He remained unconscious, pale and still, blue and grey tints evident in his skin. The healers could not give me a definitive answer on whether or not he would live. It depended on whether or not Loki was strong enough to heal. Knowing his pre-existing condition, I was concerned. But I could not save him if I tried. So I did what I could where I could. Steve was in pain, but he was healing quickly, thanks in part to his super-soldier body. I was pleased to note his rapid recovery and spent time with him during the breaks I got in between working. Clint was released after two days with a dressing on his head and strict instructions to take it easy.

I was changing the dressings on one soldier's hand almost a week after the battle when a commotion started up near the far end of the room. I looked up, frowning in curiosity until I realised that the fuss was coming from Loki's ward. I was up in an instant with a hurried apology to the soldier I was abandoning and sprinting down the corridors. I slid into the partition opening, shoving the material out of my way impatiently to see inside. There, Loki was standing with one hand clamped firmly around a healer's throat, snarling at her aggressively. "Loki!" I exclaimed sharply. Loki looked at me briefly with crimson eyes before turning his gaze on the healer in his grasp.
"They took something from me," he growled quietly. "Something precious to me. I want it back." I pulled the paper from the bodice of my violet gown and held it out to Loki silently. He took a deep breath, stepping back from the healer and slowly releasing her. I jerked my chin towards the exit. She obeyed, leaving immediately as Loki stood staring at the paper in my hand.

"Where did you get that?" he rumbled softly.
"I took it when they stripped you to heal you," I responded. Loki reached out, plucking the sheet from my fingers, and I dug into my bodice again, pulling out my tiny scrap of parchment. Loki looked up from my letter and blinked, eyes returning to their usual shifting blue-green as he hesitantly took the parchment from me, smoothing it open carefully. With a deep breath, he handed it back to me, green light rippling across the surface. As I watched, the familiar letters shifted, changing into something else.
I Know…
I looked from the parchment back to Loki, smiling faintly. "Sit down," I said gently. "All this fuss; you've probably popped a few stitches now." Loki sighed heavily, stiffly lowering himself onto the edge of the bed and leaning back against the pillows.
"How long was I unconscious for?" he inquired as I tucked my parchment away and sat beside him.
"Almost a week… We didn't know if you would wake up." Loki looked at me curiously as though trying to determine what I had thought of that and I shook my head, rolling my eyes and wrapping my arms around his neck. "You scared me, Princeling." Loki folded his arms over my back silently, resting his cheek on my scalp.

"Why do you carry my note with you, Mouse?" he finally asked.
"Because… I found it reassuring, I suppose. I hadn't considered the fact that you had written the note yourself; you were dead at the time, but… I wanted you to know, Loki."
"I did know," he murmured.
"But I never said…"
"You didn't have to," Loki interrupted, brushing his hand over my hair. "I saw it. I knew. I know." I smiled, relaxing and listening to Loki's steady breathing as he distractedly played with my curls. After a little while, Loki started shifting uncomfortably and I sat up, looking at him.
"Are you in pain?" I asked gently. He nodded, shifting again.
"I'll go fetch a healer for you… I've got work to do, Loki…"
"What work? You are Thor's guest; what work have you?" Loki demanded.

"Work I set myself, Princeling," I explained. "I am helping with the healing work." Loki smirked, shaking his head.
"Always looking after others, Little Mouse." I grinned, shrugging.
"Would you love me otherwise?" I wondered playfully.
"Not as much."
"I'll get a healer," I sighed, sobering again. Loki nodded and I left the room, finding the closest healer to send and returning to my work.