celdria (Thank you so much! :) ), Prince Of Pariahs (Thank you! Glad it affects you so :P), DarkSkyDepth (Thanks! And, please, enjoy), Aquarinus (Thank you!), Clint Barton-Loki's Butt Warmer (Thanks! ;) ), Guest (Thanks!), Maru de Kusanagi (Thank you so much for reviewing!), THORKISUPPORT (I love Thor, too. Thanks :) ), addicted2sasunaru (Thanks so much for your comment! I hope you're going to keep enjoying it), Guest (Thank you! :) ), Blue-Moons169 (Thank you very much! Here's the new chapter :) ), GrimCharmer (I don't know if I have any. Mine has been dyed completely black for many years :P. Thanks for commenting!), Guest (Thank you! I'm so glad you enjoyed ;) ), Ginsekatze (It's really good to know, thanks a lot! Please, enjoy the next one!), NappoDapler (Yeah, I'm cruel -_-. But I'm glad you enjoy it! I'll try to keep you on the edge of your seat ;). Thank you! ), Nachtmensch (I don't know, but thank you! Danke schön! Wie es ihnen gefällt :) ).

A/N: I love it when Thor is devoted to Loki and when they are as close as soulmates. Yes, sometimes dark and abusive Thor is very interesting, too; I'm okay with that. But I can't stand Thor indifferent towards Loki and too busy with someone else, especially some new friends that suddenly become more important, like we can see in the film. No way in hell I'd write anything like that.

Enjoy devoted, zealous, loving and protective Thorrr!

The previous update was on Thor's day, so it's only fair to finish the next chapter and post it on Loki's day, which is traditionally Saturday (it's already begun in my time zone). We don't want to upset Loki and summon his wrath by not giving him the same attention, right? ;)

The title of this chapter is one of those things that a referee usually says before a fight.

As promised, this chapter is much longer.

7. Come Out At The Bell

~oOo~

Sif was very supportive. But, unlike many other women, and people in general, she deliberately avoided saying any words of comfort; she just wasn't good at it. Instead, she preferred to drag her best friend to the boxing club where they were boxing against each other until both of them were completely out of breath and sweat was streaming down their bruised bodies; sometimes they fought even longer than that. Usually, Sif dragged him there right after lessons (though they didn't study together) before the training sessions started officially, so there were only the two of them without anyone watching them. Of course, Thor was heavier and stronger, but her dexterity was remarkable and made her a dangerous opponent, not to mention that her muscular body could sustain pretty hard hits (and deliver them, too). She wouldn't have taken it well if Thor held back on her, he knew it very well, though he would never allow himself to hit her face on purpose.

Sometimes she taunted him, made him furious, so he angrily bit down hard into his mouthguard and took his anger and pain out on her. She was just surfacing all his negative feelings that had settled down inside him like a lethal disease and made him give vent to them during their fights. Some would've said it was cruel of her to disturb him like this in his current state when he was suffering so terribly, but she would've just snorted at them in response. She didn't really believe in any psychoanalysis and psychotherapy, thinking that it was nothing but a waste of time. When people were getting something off their chest by talking, they were never entirely honest; they embellished things or held something back, leaving it deep inside to keep poisoning them.

On a ring it was different, it was much more honest. Sif knew Thor was a fighter; it was in his heart, in his nature, therefore, he needed to fight, not chit-chat. Fighting made him feel less helpless, less powerless, less cornered. This was a medication, as Sif saw it, not some empty words said to or said by some idiot who was writing down god knew what in his or her notebook, making a clever face as if knowing what pain their client was carrying inside, when, in fact, they didn't know a fucking thing. Losing a mother when Sif had been little had taught her a thing or two about coping properly, in her opinion. There should be a strong, supportive person to try to keep up with, not a chatting and a pity of a stranger.

Thor was like her in many ways; that was why she knew what he needed. Bruised forearms, shoulders and sometimes even faces didn't bother either of them. Sometimes he told her what he felt, and she was a good listener, but she never purposely made him talk. But, all in all, she knew he was far from being okay, even though more than a month had passed after the tragedy that had practically devastated him. She once saw him weeping quietly as he was watching a video in his cell phone; it was some regular video with his brother in it, the video that Thor had filmed a couple of weeks before some scum had ruined their lives. In that video the brothers were arguing about something. Loki was grumbling and sounded rather moody, and then he demanded to stop filming him, obviously after realising that he had been filmed all that time. Thor was teasing him, saying that he would keep filming just to show Loki later what he looked like when he was pouting and snarling.

Sif felt like an intruder, so she gave Thor his privacy, quietly leaving him alone.

Stefán, Karl and Hilmar were avoiding Thor at all costs, and Thor was thankful for it, because he didn't know what he could do to them, at least to the older two, for unknowingly condemning his little brother to being brutalised and damaged this terribly. He felt nothing about Hilmar, thinking of him as no more than a foolish child, though. He knew that all three of them were really in trouble with their parents and the police kept a watchful eye on the boys now to discourage them from making any trouble in the future. Not that Thor cared much about it.

~oOo~

Yule was rather quiet in their family this year, even though Frigga had invited a few relatives and a couple of friends of their family. When someone started discussing Loki, Thor started seething, even though they were saying nothing offensive. He just usually took it too personally when his brother was being discussed behind his back or right in Loki's presence, even though the younger youth never reacted and there was no progress in his mental state at all. But then one of the guests, Odin's foreign colleague, who probably thought himself very clever, 'helpfully' suggested (not that anyone had asked for his help or opinion) to send Loki away to some mental hospital in southern Europe, just because he'd once heard it was a good clinic; and he was also tactless enough to ask if they had tried to use electroconvulsive therapy, which, as he'd heard, was an effective method for treating such kind of mental disorders. Thor got up from the table so angrily and abruptly that he startled most of the guests; he took his brother's hand and led him away to his room, casting such a murderous glare at the 'helpful' guest that the man cringed. Loki followed obediently and emotionlessly, as usual. Thor had to leave before he did something that nobody would be happy about.

"I won't let anyone take you away from me. That moron... A retarded son of a whore! He can go fuck himself with his hospital and electroconvulsive therapy. Stupid prick..." Thor muttered irately, his protective arm was tightly wound around Loki as they reached his room. His choice of words usually wasn't this 'colourful', but Thor was livid. If anyone tried to take Loki from him and subject him to something that terrible, Thor would remove their limbs one by one! He lay down onto his bed and pulled his little brother closer, making him partially lie down onto Thor. The younger one's head was resting on the blond's chest right under his chin and Thor started to calm down very soon as he was lazily playing with the black (not including those two grey strands) hair.

"I miss you," he said sincerely.

He watched his brother falling asleep with his head still on the muscular chest of the older youth. Thor himself felt like having some sleep. Celebrations weren't appealing to him this year anyway, so he didn't regret leaving.

In his dream he saw the abandoned hospital where his little brother had been brutalised. But in Thor's dream it was calm. Basically, he was just exploring it aimlessly, his attention never stopped on anything as his legs were carrying him unhurriedly. The building was old and shabby, but nothing looked threatening, especially given that the day was almost bright outside. Instinctively, Thor knew that he wasn't here by accident, but he couldn't figure this feeling out. Several times he could swear he saw Loki far away in the endless corridors (why endless though? The building wasn't that big, was it?). Each time Loki was standing at a window, staring out of it. He was like a mirage in a desert; when Thor was approaching, his brother was gradually disappearing, and completely disappeared long before the older youth reached him.

It was starting to become unsettling until Thor found himself on the first floor in front of the shabby double door with two round, small, dirty windows. Suddenly Thor felt such an unbearable fear that he stopped, feeling almost paralysed, finding it impossible to even try to open the doors. It was very odd of him to be this scared of anything, especially without seeing any reason for it. It was like he was feeling someone else's fear, not his own; like someone's terror had literally soaked into these doors, so the place was saturated with fear that was somehow palpable for someone who approached it (or was it like this just for him? Not that there was anybody else here to compare). Thor couldn't explain it, but he felt like he was betraying someone or something by not finding enough courage to open these doors.

He woke up with a gasp, feeling cold sweat on the back of his neck. Loki was still sleeping on his chest, in his protective arms, just as he had been before the blond had fallen asleep. It was hardly the first strange dream he had seen recently. Actually, he'd already had many; most of them were uneventful and easily forgettable, but all of them left an odd feeling in Thor's heart. It sometimes exhausted him emotionally, and he felt tired and confused after awakening, feeling like he was missing something important. He always explained it with his feeling of helplessness that his subconsciousness manipulated to create strange situations in his dreams; but somehow he also knew that there was more than that.

Or he was simply going insane, so it was best for him to stop paying any attention to those dreams when possible. On the other hand, in some of those dreams he could see his brother talking to him, smiling at him, just like before the day Loki had survived his worst nightmare.

One night something had come over him in his dream and he leaned forward and kissed his younger brother's lips, like people kissed lovers, not brothers. Thor wanted to take everything from the younger man, whose emotions he could only enjoy in his dreams now; Thor wanted everything, even this. The kiss, however, was eagerly returned, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, akin to breathing. That night Thor woke up burning in shame and with sweet longing in his chest.

He decided that he had to forget about the dream immediately, which he almost succeeded to do, because of the next dream this very night, in which Thor once again found himself wandering the hospital corridors. The same abandoned hospital, the same double door with the two round windows that always made him stop on his tracks. He had already had similar situations in his dreams several times, and each time he couldn't find heart to open the doors. The doors (or something behind them) were emitting fear, 'broadcasting' it, making Thor feel it clenching his heart. But this night he, for some reason, felt himself stronger and opened the doors, refusing to let anything make him feel weak; the fear itself wasn't even his own, he was sure of it.

There wasn't something he'd expected to see behind these doors. Subconsciously, somehow he knew that there should've been several steps down and a small corridor with several doors. Instead, there was another endless corridor, however, it was dark and gloomy with no windows, unlike those he had seen in this dream hospital before.

Thor woke up covered in cold sweat, even though nothing frightening had happened in his dream. He had a strong feeling that now he was closer to achieving something important. But all these dreams and the feelings they gave him, even when he was awake, were starting to seriously annoy him.

But he kept seeing the same place again and again. It always started with exploring the upper floors of the abandoned hospital; sometimes the weather was sunny outside, sometimes it was dull, but, generally, the dream was almost the same. Each time he was walking unhurriedly, sometimes he opened the doors of random rooms, never finding anything in particular inside. But then he always ended up in front of the same double door on the first floor. Since the first time he'd opened it, he'd been opening it every time now to find himself in the same endless, dark corridor with some empty rooms that weren't really worth exploring. Sometimes he saw Loki there, but his brother always looked haunted and unhappy or thoughtful, and Thor never once had a chance to talk to him. Either he failed to reach him somehow, or Loki was walking away from him with his eyes cast down only to disappear behind some corner or a door to not be found again.

Even in his sleep Thor many times wondered what he was doing there, why he was there, but there were no answers so far.

~oOo~

In the beginning of February Thor was celebrating his nineteenth birthday in the circle of his closest friends, as Frigga had organised the small party for him. He couldn't ignore her efforts and later he was even glad that she had done it for him. He needed it.

When Sif and he had some time alone, she was trying to convince him to change his mind about not taking part in the competition in Denmark; the competition that Thor had declined for an obvious reason. She suggested taking Loki with him and hiring a nurse that would be watching the younger boy when Thor was away. They used the help of nurses anyway, it was something they couldn't do without, actually, so it wouldn't be something to get used to. And Thor wouldn't be away too often and for too long, at any rate. Thor knew that Loki would've wanted him to take part and win, so, after considering it for some time, he agreed, to their trainer's relief when the man was informed about the decision of one of his best fighters the very same day Sif had managed to convince him.

"We're going to Denmark, Loki," Thor told his brother cheerfully, kneeling before the younger youth, who was sitting on a chair motionlessly, looking into the emptiness. The blond sighed and brought Loki's hand to his face to kiss it and to rub his short beard against it, like he sometimes did, secretly hoping that Loki could feel something deep inside his damaged mind.

Thor hoped he was going to perform well enough, because he felt like he wasn't having enough sleep, and it bothered him. In his dreams about the abandoned hospital he kept ending up in the same dark corridor after wandering about the upper floors; everything was the same, but now he was having this particular dream more often than before, and now Loki almost always looked like he was hiding from something (or someone). It didn't look like he was even noticing Thor, who was trying to talk to him. The good, sweet dreams where he could talk to Loki, hear his voice, see his smiles were long gone.

Thor hated how helpless he felt in his dreams. Sometimes he was dreaming about something else, but it was never clear, though it was always something troubling and unpleasant.

He didn't entirely like the nurse they had hired to look after Loki during the trip, when Thor himself couldn't, and to take care of the boy and administer his (useless) medication, which Thor wouldn't be able to do anyway. Ingibjörg was a professional and she took a good care of his younger brother, Thor had a chance to see that it was really so, but it annoyed him that she often tended to talk to Loki like retards were usually being spoken to. For fuck's sake, he wasn't one! He didn't have any odd reactions that called for such treatment and for that irritating cooing; he hardly had any reactions at all, and even those that he had were hardly conscious. She was possibly used to taking care of mental patients that had something more than that. But she had been chosen by Frigga, and Thor had no reason to think that their Mother would've ever trusted her baby boy to the care of... just anyone.

Ingibjörg was a blonde, about forty years old woman; slightly plump. She looked like a mother type, and she was rather caring, not only as a nurse, but as a person, too. Thor learned to trust her, more or less, and leave Loki alone with her while he was training before the competition.

It hurt his heart that Loki wouldn't be able see his fights and support him.

~oOo~

It was his second boxing match during the competition. The first fight he had won easily, and it had been a beautiful victory; Thor had knocked his opponent out in the end of the second round, overwhelming him with several powerful blows after finding a weak spot in the other fighter's defence.

"...I expect a good, clean fight. Protect yourself at all times. Now touch gloves and come out at the bell," the grey-haired referee instructed. "Good luck, young men," he added.

The fight started rather lazily as both Thor and his Norwegian opponent were carefully studying each other's fighting techniques. This day of the competition had brought much more people to watch it than all the previous days. There were much more reporters, photoflashes... It looked like the interest to this particular competition of the young boxers was growing.

Thor was good at what he did on a ring. First step was always filling the lungs with air, then start exhaling, making a half-hearted punch with his left hand to distract, and immediately a powerful punch with his right hand; an uppercut, a jab or a hook, if the competitor was not fully covering his head, or a good punch to the upper torso if the head was securely protected. And then he usually made a semi-crouch to once again fill his lungs, or a full crouch if he was attacked sooner than expected. When attacked, instead of evading, he preferred blocking and leaning back, and counterattacking at the very first opportunity.

His current opponent was very strong, but Thor quickly discovered his lack of mobility. The problem was that the other young man was a southpaw, a left-handed boxer, which wasn't something Thor was really used to. Sometimes he found himself involuntarily opening his right side and becoming vulnerable as a result, because he simply was used to being hit from the other angles. His body stubbornly kept bracing itself for a hit from the familiar side and his eyes kept involuntarily watching the opponent's right hand, which was a mistake. Some angles of the Norwegian young man's attacks were really unexpected, and he knew how to take serious advantages of his left-handedness against a right-handed fighter, whereas Thor had to adjust to everything. This fight was a serious challenge from the start.

As he was sitting in the corner, having a break after the first round, his cornerman pressed an ice bag against the right side of Thor's face, which felt sore, and the trainer was giving some helpful advices.

"Keep your front foot on the outside" the trainer instructed for what seemed like the tenth time, as Thor got up, once again ready to fight.

The next round was pretty much the same. And it was quite exhausting. Once Thor knocked his opponent down with a good combination of the powerful hooks and jabs, but the other young man was on his feet again pretty soon.

The third round started badly for Thor; he took a left cross to his face and it made his focus worse. In the middle of the round the opponent successfully delivered several powerful blows to his head, and Thor found himself sitting on the floor with his back pressed against the ropes, completely disoriented and unable to concentrate. He was knocked down and his eyesight was blurry. He could see the unclear blue spots which were the gloves, headgear and shorts of his opponent; he could also see the light-beige, which were the young man's face and his muscular torso. The very blurry figure of the referee appeared in front of him immediately and started counting, though Thor couldn't hear it properly; everything was muffled and his head was swimming and throbbing. Cheering and cries of support of the spectators turned into an annoying cacophony.

"One!" the referee said loudly. Thor wanted him to shut up. "Two!" he heard even more distantly. "Three..." was now heard even worse, as if Thor was submerging deeper and deeper into the metaphorical water. "Four..." was so far away that he wasn't sure if he'd really heard it or his brain had made it up automatically.

When he opened his eyes and looked around he was almost shocked, seeing the familiar surroundings of the abandoned hospital. This time, instead of finding himself on the upper floors, he was right in front of that cursed shabby double door. The two round windows were glaring at him darkly and ominously. He knew immediately that something was seriously wrong. Almost uncertainly he entered the gloomy corridor. Everything was just the same here, except for the feeling of alertness that was much stronger now than ever before. Plus, everything felt more realistic than any dream he had ever seen before (though right now he couldn't tell if he was dreaming; he wasn't even thinking about it). It confused him. He was no longer wearing his red boxing equipment or shorts; instead, he was wearing some casual clothes (not that he really remembered about the boxing match that he had been taking part in seconds ago).

He went down the corridor, unsure of what to do. One of the doors was ajar, so Thor entered the room, just as empty as most other rooms he'd seen here. There was another door inside and he opened it to enter the next room. He almost flinched, as he saw Loki standing on a chair near one of the shabby, cracked walls. Thor approached him carefully, afraid to startle his little brother and make him fall, even though Loki had almost never even looked like he was noticing Thor's presence, as if he couldn't see him or couldn't see him clearly enough to realise that it was Thor.

As he was close enough, he saw that Loki was looking through a very small, rectangular window. There was no glass; the small window opening was only closed with the rusty wire netting. It was high above the floor, so only standing on the chair allowed Loki to reach it. Thor was immediately intrigued, wondering what the younger youth was looking at. He could see Loki's slightly frightened expression, but the green eyes kept looking at whatever was outside. Without making any sudden movements, Thor stepped up onto the chair, trying not to bother Loki too much. There was enough room for their four feet, and, to avoid any pushing, the blond stood behind the younger youth with one strong arm around the lean body. The calves of his muscular legs were pressed against the back of the chair, but the brothers managed to make enough room for themselves. Surprisingly, Loki had shifted forward because of it, without acknowledging the blond right behind him otherwise.

"What are you looking at?" the older of the two asked softly. He wanted to smile at finally being so close to his little brother, and he would've smiled if Loki's expression didn't look this troubled by something. With his own hand Thor covered the younger man's pale hand that was pressed against the wall right under the small window, and slightly leaned forward to see what was behind the rusty netting. An unpleasant cold was coming from outside the building together with the light waves of something that could be characterised as danger or just a bad feeling that any human usually had, knowing that something unpleasant was about to happen (though in those cases the feeling was usually based on something that indicated that the bad thing was about to happen); it was a trepidation. And it was coming in waves.

It wasn't the first time Thor was 'sensing' emotions in this abandoned building. This deep empathy was like an additional sense he'd gained to his hearing, sight, smell, taste and touch. It was new, though, so it still often confused him and he just couldn't be sure he always interpreted it correctly. It was like that place in front of the double door where it was clear that something from behind it was 'broadcasting' the feeling of unspeakable fear and emotional trauma. And sometimes hurt and sadness were filling the air of the entire building, making Thor want to run to a source, whatever or whoever it was, and comfort it. He wouldn't be surprised if Loki was the source of all these emotions, and Thor himself was nothing but an empath.

The air was cold, but somehow it wasn't fresh. Nothing in particular was behind the small window, nothing could be really seen, other than that the weather was dull and that the evening was approaching. It looked like there was nothing but an endless, empty space outside, but seemingly it really lacked depth for a large space. Plus, nothing was clear at all. Sometimes Thor noticed some grey smoke floating in the air, but he couldn't see what was producing it.

"What's going on, Loki?" the blond asked quietly. The younger one wasn't paying him any attention and kept looking outside. Very soon the smoke started thickening as if its source was approaching. Thor could suddenly smell that smoke, and he couldn't figure out why it was so familiar. The hospital was saturated with this smell, but he couldn't remember when he had sensed it this clearly; he just knew it had happened before.

And then he saw it... Some ugly, dark-grey figure outside. It was like it had just slowly stood up from the ground clumsily. Loki gasped and pressed his back against Thor's chest, obviously terrified now. The blond, meanwhile, kept watching the odd figure. It was tall, its back was stooped and its arms were longer than human arms, with the longer than human fingers; but it was hard to tell what its skin looked like (if it had any), because it was obscured by the dark-grey smoke that reeked terribly. It probably emitted that smoke from its pores. The smoke was curling around the creature's entire body, mostly close to it, but it also created a grey, more transparent cloud around it.

Suddenly, the creature became still, as if it had started realising that it was being watched. Thor felt all the hairs on his body standing on end. Becoming an object of the creature's attention, for some reason, felt like a death sentence. The cold became unbearable, worse than any chills during a severe flu. Maybe it was the cold that people felt whilst dying? The creature slowly started turning to the window. Loki panicked and fell on the floor together with Thor, upturning the chair in the process. With a muffled huff the blond hit the hard floor and saw how in blind panic the younger of the two started crawling away on his hands and knees before managing to stand up and run away as fast as his hyperventilation and stiffened muscles allowed him to.

Thor felt the strong urge to cover his brother's escape by standing on the way of the monster. As he stood up and turned his face to the window, he could only see a lot of dark smoke at first, but somehow he knew that the creature was looking at him. Dumbfounded, Thor felt like he was suddenly thrown into the ice-cold water. The cold wasn't really physical, though... He managed to make several steps back, his eyes never left the thing. The creature no longer resembled an ugly human figure, it was even uglier now; it looked like its neck and head were stretched out to the unthinkable extent and deformed, and it was practically seeping into the room through the wire netting of the window, as if through a mincing machine. The creature's long, stooped body below the neck was probably still outside, though. The long, big, ugly thing inside the room was like a thick, disgusting appendage, like a huge, dark, writhing worm growing out of the wall, as it was now completely obscuring the window. The smoky appendage was looming over Thor, 'looking' at him (though he couldn't see any eyes), and this alone was shocking.

The thing was wheezing and the noise was repulsing. Suddenly the blond could distinctly see some small, round, thick orange dot among the smoke, somewhere on the ugly, extended head of the demonic creature. The dot was becoming brighter and brighter; more and more ominous. It was probably its eye; Thor was almost sure that it was. The reek of smoke was choking now. The disturbing thing wasn't from the world of men; it had obviously come from some other world. Perhaps, the bizarre creature had come straight from hell to prey on humans? It was real... Too real...

Before Thor had a chance to think of how to escape his inevitable death, the dirty tiled floor disappeared from under his feet and he could no longer see and think, as well as he couldn't tell if he was falling or drowning for a few moments...

"Eight!" he suddenly heard. 'What? Eight what?' Thor's startled and confused mind tried to start working properly. "Nine!"

Shock, and just a feeling that he had to, made him stand up on his feet. He was reeling, but forced himself to concentrate on his surroundings that looked... unexpected: the referee, the Norwegian southpaw, who was waiting for the declaration of his victory or for the fight to go on, the ring, a lot of spectators around, photographers and reporters. He was in the middle of his boxing match... Overcoming the dizziness and confusion, Thor looked back into the eyes of the referee, assuring that he was fine, though he wasn't really sure about it.

Everything was so odd... He'd had a dream that in reality had lasted for some mere seconds, even though it had felt much longer than that. Just a grotesque dream... A vision. And now he was back to his almost comfortable reality.

As much as his mind was still confused and shaken up, he was in the middle of a fight, so he decided to forget about the strange things for the time being and save them for later consideration.

Nevertheless, he had spent most of the long, tiring fight slightly light-headed. It was the worst performance he'd ever had in his life, and one of the most exhausting; in the end he was feeling like he had been fighting for days. The victory was miraculous, only because he'd somehow managed to get a bit more points than his opponent. Thor wasn't feeling that the victory was even deserved at all. But he was too exhausted to care, though, mentally, he managed to half-heartedly curse all the left-handed people in the world as he was leaving to the dressing room, ignoring those who wanted to take an interview, leaving them to his trainer. Great... Now people would probably start thinking that he was a presumptuous boor, not even famous enough to be this big-headed. He'd deal with it later somehow... Or not.

He spat out his mouthguard absent-mindedly. He could only think about a shower right now, a hot one, but his red equipment was a challenge to remove from his unusually tired body. His gloves, headgear, high boxing boots that he had to unlace, of course, and the gauze of which his hand wraps were made; all of it seemed to had never taken this long to take off before.

When the pleasantly hot water finally ran down his naked body, strong, but sore, it felt like heaven and Thor groaned in relief.

His trainer was supportive, assuring him that he hadn't been bad at all, considering that he had been fighting a southpaw, which was always a pain in the neck, even for much more experienced fighters. Thor felt better after his words, but all he really wanted now was going back to the hotel. And rest... Unfortunately, he wasn't allowed to leave before the doctors examined him, making sure he hadn't taken any serious damage during today's challenging fight. They gave him a couple of pills to make his head stop aching and throbbong, and took care of some small abrasions on his face that weren't really troubling him. After that Thor's team-mates invited him for a dinner to celebrate, but he wasn't hungry; actually, he felt too tired to eat or celebrate.

"Good evening, Ingibjörg," he greeted the nurse, as soon as he entered his hotel room.

"Hi, Thor!" the woman smiled. "How did it go? Have you beaten up another poor boy?"

"Not quite."

"Oh?"

"I won, but he'd been looking much better during the fight."

"I'm sure you'll do better next time," she smiled again. And then both of them knew it was time for the question that Thor asked every time he came back.

"Have you noticed anything... unusual?" he asked predictably. It was one of the forms of the same question he usually asked, each time hoping to hear about at least slightest improvements in Loki's condition. Just like all the previous times the answer was the same. Ingibjörg shook her head sadly, looking at Thor with sympathy.

"Nothing so far, Thor," she said. The young man nodded. He had been expecting this answer, as always, and he was angry at himself for it. He didn't want to give up on Loki, in fact, he would never really be able to, but more than three months without any improvements at all... Well, it was rather discouraging.

Very soon he dismissed her and she left. Loki looked taken care of and well-groomed, like he had always been looking lately, so Thor decided that the nurse was really doing her job well.

The younger of the two was sitting in the armchair where the nurse had left him, near the large window that showed the beautiful view of this part of Copenhagen. Thor approached him, got down on one knee and took Loki's hand in his own two, squeezing it lightly.

"I'm not sure how, but I won," he smiled sadly, but then the smile was gone and Thor's expression became thoughtful. "You know... I had a very strange vision today. About you and... s-something that I don't even know how to name. Of course, you have nothing to do with that, but... It seemed so real. Do you have any dreams? Or... visions of something that doesn't happen in reality and simply can't happen? Maybe I'm just going insane and need a doctor... I'm not sure the brain of a normal person can create something I saw today," he shuddered. He sighed as he looked up at the face of his unresponsive baby brother.

He wasn't superstitious, but the dream had unsettled him slightly, stirring the urge to protect; and it didn't matter if the threat wasn't real. In his dreams Loki needed protection. In reality Loki just needed to be taken care of. Instead of putting the younger youth into his bed, Thor took him into his own and wrapped his arms around the lean body.

"Mine... I chose you and you're mine..." he murmured, falling asleep before he even finished the sentence. This night he didn't seem to have any dreams at all, which was a blessing. But even in his deep sleep he was somehow a little aware of Loki's closeness, and sometimes Thor's strong arms unconsciously tightened slightly around the smaller young man, who was peacefully sleeping inside the warm, muscular sanctuary.

A/N: I hope against all hopes that the rotten fruits of my sick imagination have scared you... just a little.