After recovering from the worst case of the runs he's ever had, Tony returned to the sickbay. He was still feeling pretty awful, but he couldn't seem to come up with a proper method of revenge on Bruce. Probably because in the back of his mind he knew he had somewhat deserved it. Frigga had completed her preparations, and Loki was tied to the bed for the procedure.

"Why did you tie him down?"

"He has a strong mind. He will fight the treatment first."

That didn't sound too good. He took the god's hand in his and hoped there wouldn't be too much pain involved in what Frigga had planned. The mother goddess had distilled a bizarre liquid with a golden glow, and with gentle movements she made Loki drink a whole cup of it. The effects didn't fail to occur… Soon, Loki's muscles tensed up and the wary, frightened look in his eyes became one of despair. He started to fight his restraints, crying and uttering broken phrases in a language Tony didn't recognize. He looked at Frigga for help, but the goddess simply nodded at him, her look telling him that this had to happen. For half an hour Loki resisted whatever "treatment" his mother had subjected him to. Then it just stopped. First Tony thought the god was simply too exhausted to fight and scream any more, but then he saw Loki's eyes. The despair was gone, as was the fear. He simply stared dreamily into space, his eyes open but no sign of awareness in them.

"He has entered his deep mind now…" Frigga looked at Tony and she suddenly seemed old and tired.

"What will happen now?"

"He dreams. The potion forces him to. At this moment he is no longer aware that he is dreaming though, it is all real to him."

Tony had had enough nightmares of his own to know how horrible it was, having to relive even a trace of a traumatizing event, let alone to be caught up in it for two whole weeks…

(Pagebreak)

JARVIS had shown Peter and Hela the footage of both Tony's runny incident and Clint's poop slide, and the matter had caused them both to laugh out loud. It was a relieving change to the crying of earlier. Peter had comforted Hela as much as he could, but the anger he felt over what she had been through was far from gone. There was a certain person he would have to speak about it with. He left Hela in the Tower's library and went to look for Thor. The thunder god was pacing in front of the sickbay doors, looking rather worse for wear.

"Err… Thor?"

"Yes, Peter?"

"I think we need to talk."

"Ah?"

"It's about Hela. She had lived on Asgard for a while, hasn't she?"

Thor nodded absentmindedly.

"Yes, but she was never fit for the Realm Eternal… She had no feelings, no conscious, no heart you mortals would say… I suppose the realms of the dead were more her natural habitat, for inside she was as good as dead. The prophecies said that she would have a large role in the coming of Ragnarök, that's why Odin never allowed Loki to visit her. He didn't want to speed it up, you see."

Peter had been angry, but now he was seething. How dare he speak of Hela in such a manner?

"Hela isn't heartless. Heartbroken perhaps, because everyone thinks she's no more sentient than a walking corpse, but I know she has a heart!"

Thor sighed.

"I can understand you admire Hela, but the judgement of the Allfather is rarely ever wrong. She is cold, her soul is a bottomless pit."

"Has it occurred to you she started hiding her emotions because everyone bullied her for her looks?"

Peter doesn't know why he's standing there, trying to pick a fight with a hammer-wielding thunder god twice his size over things that happened ages ago, but he can't help it. Thor seems equally surprised at the fierceness of Peter's words.

"It is true that Hela never made friends, but I suppose it's normal when you can't feel that people also have trouble feeling for you…"

That was the drop. Peter could barely contain his anger… If all the people in Asgard thought like that about Hela, then it was no surprise she was as reclusive and sad-natured as she was. And Thor, of all people, should have known better, after all, his own brother had been a bit of an outcast too! And to think that Hela felt comfortable in the realm of the dead while she loved nature so much… what an idiot was Thor actually?

A thought occurred to Peter. Perhaps Thor had treated Loki in the same manner as he had treated Hela. Maybe Loki was holding a grudge against his blonde brother for a reason. Peter wasn't very fond of Loki himself, but the god of mischief was Hela's father and that alone made him deserving of better treatment in Peter's opinion.

In a fistfight he would never win from Thor –Peter still remembered that time Thor had found it incredibly funny to carefully put Mjolnir on Peter's foot- but perhaps he could follow Bruce's strategy and make it a battle of wits. Thor was oblivious of the plans forming in the spider boy's mind, and patted him on the shoulder.

"Be careful, Peter Parker… Death and those who serve her are dangerous folks."

Peter left, still mad but less already. Thor would regret this… he would regret it severely…

(Pagebreak)

It was terrible. Tony had expected a lot, but the state Loki was in was terrible beyond anything he had imagined. The god clawed at his sheets with his face a grimace of pain, laughed manically with a deranged, unseeing look in his eyes, cried his heart out while making desperate apologies to people that weren't there, screamed in fear at threats only existing in his mind and held incoherent conversations with the ceiling and walls. Worst were the moments that he just "wasn't there". Those scared Tony the most, when he looked into Loki's eyes and saw nothing but emptiness. Those moments he feared that the man he had somehow come to love would be lost forever.

Sometimes Loki would look at Tony, and it would seem as if he actually saw the other man, as if he knew Tony was really there. Only then the god was calm enough to fall in some kind of sleep.

Frigga watched it all, keeping a bit of a distance. She wanted nothing more than to hold her son in her arms and comfort him, but she knew from experience that no amount of comforting could ease the mind of a person undergoing the treatment. Eir, the Goddess of Medicine, had showed her the effects of the procedure on war victims once. How their lovers and wives would try anything to console their crying and that nothing would help until the spell broke and freed their minds from its grasp. And Loki had a lot more to process than simply to horrors of war…

It had been almost a week now, and Tony looked as if he hadn't seen a bath or a bed in days, which was fairly accurate too. Loki had one of his clearer moments, and softly whispered in Tony's direction.

"Vennligst ikke la meg…"

Tony didn't know what it meant, or if it was even meant for him to hear, but the way Loki clenched his hand told him enough. He hoped Frigga wouldn't freak out at it… Carefully, he climbed into Loki's bed and wrapped his arms tenderly around the god, who immediately responded by crawling into Tony's grasp and whispering.

"Jeg ønsker ikke å være alene…"

Since Tony didn't speak Norse he simply kissed Loki's forehead and told him it would all be okay. A little later they were both asleep. Frigga found them and made sure not to wake them. Both her son and the man of iron didn't sleep much in the first place, and this scene was just too adorable to disturb.

(Pagebreak)

He was there, and yet, he wasn't. Odin didn't think him good enough. No, Loki… There was falling, and such darkness, everything was just too dark and too cold and too lonely. The darkness was like a blanket trying to smother him, the millions of stars evil reminders of the light he would never reach again, and the sheer desperation of it all made him cry like a child.

Standing on top of a building he watched over a world that was burning in destruction. He laughed, but then he felt it, the tingle, the unusual feeling starting from his feet up. When he looked down, he saw how he was slowly turning to stone, no, to ice. An icy sculpture in a world of fire... While the cold reached up he screamed.

There was someone. Even when knew he was alone he knew there was someone. He couldn't explain the presence; he just knew for sure that someone was with him. In the lonely darkness, the seething fire, the awkward parties and the deranged torture sessions, he could feel it. "Please don't leave me", he had whispered. "I don't want to be alone." And the presence had wrapped itself around him, reassuring Loki that it would always be there. Only when the presence was there Loki could sleep…

(Pagebreak)

Hela spent most of her time in Stark Tower at the small library. Tony Stark had had no need for a library, as he was all for e-books and technological progress, but back in the days Pepper had nagged about it until he let her have a go at it. Thus, now there was a relatively large room in the Tower with quite a few well-filled mahogany bookcases, a fireplace, thick Persian carpets, soft Chesterfields and cosy lighting. Pepper had been in an "English Mansion" phase while decorating the place, and it had never really been used for its proper purpose.

Tony had quickly started using the library to stash away precious but useless gifts from important people, ranging from an antique gramophone to Ming vases and even a grand piano. The place had looked like a bizarre curiosity cabinet, and the Goddess of the Dead had immediately fallen in love with it. Peter had seen how her eyes glistered at the sight of the books…

Most of her time she spent there, often together with Peter, indulging in books and silence like they had done back at the school library. Peter wished he could be around her all the time, but he knew Hela's wish for solitude and therefor left her alone often enough to have some private time, while he hung out with Justin. The "Son of Hammer" had become a regular and well-liked guest in the Tower, and since Tony hadn't resurfaced from the sickbay yet no one was there to comment on his heritage.

One of the days Justin wasn't present at the Tower during Hela's private time however, Peter found himself almost automatically wandering back to the library. The door was open on a crack, and he heard music coming from it. Carefully he peaked in, and he spotted Hela behind the piano. He heard a strangely familiar melody and a mature female voice sing.

"Oh, give me land, lots of land under starry skies above, don't fence me in. Let me ride through the wide open country that I love, don't fence me in."

Hela's fingers danced over the keys again, and Peter really had to stop himself from going inside and watch it from close by.

"Let me be by myself in the evenin' breeze, listen to the murmur of the cottonwood trees, send me off forever but I ask you please, don't fence me in."

It was a song Peter had heard once before but he couldn't tell where. Hela's voice was different; it was like it had sounded in the illusion of punishment she had created for Justin's bullies... He realized that it was probably how her voice truly sounded. From the crack he could see too that Hela had shed the illusion shielding her bony side.

"I want to ride to the ridge where the west commences, gaze at the moon till I lose my senses. I can't look at hobbles and I can't stand fences, don't fence me in."

The text was oddly appropriate for Hela's situation… Suddenly she stopped and turned, her one green eye catching his gaze.

"Now you're there anyway, I guess you can better come in."

Peter pushed the door open further and smiled carefully at his girlfriend.

"That… that was beautiful."

Hela granted him a sad half-smile.

"Don't Fence Me In, Ella Fitzgerald. Your realm has… it offers many strange delights but your music alone is a reason to withhold destruction."

Peter didn't know if she seriously meant that. HE noticed there was no sheet music on the piano.

"How did you know the notes?"

Hela cocked her head.

"Notes?"

Peter's mouth fell open.

"You don't know the notes? Notes are a way of writing down music, so you know which keys to use. How…"

Hela pointed at a small stack of vinyl records next to the gramophone.

"It was on one of those, I simply listened to it to hear which keys to touch."

Peter slowly nodded. So Hela had virtuosic hearing. Not the strangest thing about her, really.

"I particularly enjoy Ella Fitzgerald. Her music is very different from the things you and Justin listen to."

"Ah yes, probably because it's from another era. Steve would be delighted to hear you like her, she's from around his time, the forties."

There was a bit of a silence, and Peter felt guilty for intruding on something Hela probably hadn't wanted him to see.

"Can you play more of her music?"

Hela nodded.

"Would you like to hear it?"

"Of course!"

Now Hela gave him a real smile, and it warmed his heart. She turned back to the piano and started playing.

"I don't believe in frettin' and grievin'; why mess around with strife? I never was cut out to step and strut out… Give me the simple life."

Hela didn't sound like the famous singer at all, but in her own way she managed to bring the song to life for Peter, who had taken place in one of the chesterfields.

"Some find it pleasant dining on pheasant, those things roll off my knife. Just serve me tomatoes, and mashed potatoes… Give me the simple life."

Peter stayed there and listened to Hela singing all the Ella Fitzgerald songs she knew. When she had played them all, they put on the vinyl records and listened to the crackly sound of old-fashioned jazz music. Hela had crawled on the sofa next to Peter, her head resting with the good side against his chest and her bony hand intertwined with his.

"Some like the high road; I like the low road, free from the care and strife. Sounds corny and seedy, but yes, indeed-y… Give me the simple life!"

This was the simple life, Peter realized. Just him and Hela in a forgotten room listening to forgotten records, without having to think of what the next day would bring… He pulled her on his lap and kissed her, and she kissed him back. He could feel the ribs of her left side push against his through the fabric of her dress, and as he ran his fingers over her exposed spinal cord he felt how she shivered with pleasure. Unfeeling my ass, he thought.

"I won't fence you in, Hela… and I won't allow anyone else to do so either. You will always be free from now on."

Hela looked at him, her green eye and hollow socket equally pleading before she spoke.

"Think before you promise…" She hesitated a moment. "Peter…"

Peter couldn't help but make a snarky remark about that, Tony had to be rubbing off on him.

"You almost called me 'Mortal' again, didn't you?"

Hela gave him a very Loki-ish grin.

"The truth must be told…"

"Hear who says it…"

Their conversation ended when Hela shut Peter up by crashing her lips, half flesh-half bone, onto his. The rest of the evening and night they didn't resurface from the library, intertwined and happy on the barely-used chesterfield with Ella Fitzgerald and Cole Porter repeating their famous words on the background…

(Author's Notes)

Ah yes, in case you hadn't noticed: I love Ella Fitzgerald. "Don't Fence Me In" seemed bizarrely appropriate for Hela's situation too...

Peter is really mad at Thor (THAT OAF!) and I would almost feel sorry for him with what Peter's got in store for him... but I have to spare my sorry-feeling for Loki, who is currently experiencing full-fledged psychosis, so no. Thor totally deserves it.

As for my writing speed, yes I'm fast. But that's because I don't have a life. All I do is eating, writing and having intercourse, occasionally interrupted by a few hours of classes or a nap. I'm so pathetic xD

And now, because you have all been reviewing so well... THE GIFT!

-It's mother's day and Sleipnir has asked Hela if she can make him a gift for Loki... Being a good sister Hela of course agrees, hence why Tony finds her in his workshop surrounded by equipment and toys...-

Tony: What are you doing dow here?

Hela: I am making a gift for Mother's day.

Tony: Err... isn't your mother dead? (O_O rude!)

Hela (unfazed): Yes, she is. But it's for Loki.

Tony: Shouldn't you give that on Father's day then?

Hela: No, because I'm making it for Sleipnir to give to Loki. Loki is Sleipnir's mom.

Tony (goes WTF): Loki gave birth to a child?

Hela (still unfazed): yes.

Tony: Then why does this Sleipnir doesn't make it himself?

Hela: Because he's a horse.

Tony (has mental meltdown): Loki... gave birth... to a horse? (realizes what must have passed before that) Wait... so... Loki SCREWED a HORSE!?

Hela: Read up on your mythology, Mr Stark.

-Tony manages to close his mouth and hide his absolute dumb-struckness, and instead shows interest in what Hela is making.-

Tony: And what is this gift?

-Hela holds up a rather frankenstein-ish (or frankenpony-ish?) doll consisting of different parts from My Little Pony dolls sewn, melted and glued together. It has eight legs.-

Hela: I made it so that it would have eight legs just like Sleipnir. Do you like it?

-Insert total mental breakdown for Tony here-

I still want and need REVIEWS! Get me MOOOORE of them and tell me what you would like me to make fun of... critics, suggestions and small words of praise/dislike are welcomed warmly as well!