Author's note:As promised, another chapter! My original plan had been to keep alternating POV between Loki and Grainne. In writing, however, I've found that most of the soul-searching type stuff makes a lot more sense when it's from Loki's POV. So since I'm not keen on just throwing in filler chapters to keep the pattern going, it looks like the story will be mostly Loki's POV with maybe the odd vacation into someone else's head.

Also note that I'm playing fairly loosely with time here. There's probably a couple of days between the last chapter and this, and will probably be a couple more days between this and the next. I'm not sure how well that comes across in the writing. :-/

Disclaimer: Loki is, sadly, not mine. This incarnation of him sort of is, but also owes a lot to interviews I've seen with Tom Hiddleston talking about his thoughts on the depth of the character.


"...and then of course, Marcus said he hadn't had anything to do with it either, so Dad decided that since no one was owning up, we'd all have to spend an hour 'thinking very carefully about what we'd done'. In a corner, staring at the wall. Of course, for some of us, that wasn't anything! Bloody boring hour!" Liz finished her story with a mock scowl, then joined the other three in laughter.

They were sitting on a pile of rocks at the side of the road, munching sandwiches and passing around a bottle of soft drink. Still unable to recall anything about his past, Loki had asked them to share stories of their families, and Liz had kicked it off with a hysterical tale about the trouble she and her three older brothers got into as children. As he wiped the tears from his eyes, Greg said, "Hands up all those glad to be an only child?" Loki hesitated. Was he an only child? He had a dim sense that there had been... someone... He lost the train of thought as he realised that both Greg and Grainne had raised their hands.

"You? But... you said you were brother and sister?" He looked between them in confusion. They exchanged a sheepish look.

"Well... yes and no," Grainne replied with a small smile. "Sorry, we forget this is likely to throw people. Greg and I aren't technically related. Our parents are best friends, though, and we're born a week apart, so we've known each other since we were babies. When we were about eight, we decided that the universe was obviously wrong and we should have been brother and sister. So we adopted each other. Whoever said you can choose your friends but not your family didn't know what they were talking about."

Loki looked at the pair of them with interest. This certainly seemed like a novel approach, and on some strange level it resonated with him. Curious, he probed further. "So what you're saying is you're related by choice, not by blood?"

Greg coughed as Grainne smothered a giggle. "Funny you should say that," he replied with a chuckle. "You see, what happens when you get a couple of eight-year-olds who read a lot of fantasy and mythology and then decide they ought to be related is a rather nasty little ritual with a pen-knife and a silver cup from the trophy cabinet. Because we felt that, as you say, we should share blood."

"It seemed like a good idea when we were eight," Grainne added straight-faced, although her eyes were twinkling with amusement. "Sadly, his dad didn't agree. It was his trophy we pinched."

The earnestness of her manner was too much, and he collapsed back against his rock with laughter. He was never, ever going to figure these people out, he reflected, but trying to do so was proving a constant source of entertainment.

~ A few days later ~

With a muffled yelp, Loki sat bolt upright in bed and threw back the covers. He stared around blindly in the dark room. Where was he? What has he doing here? His heart raced and his skin felt clammy. He dragged in a deep ragged breath.

"Loki?" A soft voice called to him from a few feet away and he swung himself to face it. "Are you all right?" A light appeared to show him his surroundings. A small room with two narrow beds, a lamp on the table between them. He was in one of the beds, and the other was occupied by the woman who had spoken to him. Small, red hair, concerned expression.

Rational thought returned and he slumped forward to cradle his head in his hands. "A dream," he muttered. "I think. Maybe a memory. I don't know." He shuddered with the effort of suppressing a sob. What would she think of him, to be so easily unmanned by a dream?

He heard a soft rustle of fabric and then the mattress dipped under him as arms wrapped around him gently. "Do you remember it?" Grainne asked quietly. This time he couldn't quite choke back the sob that shook him and her arms tightened. "Shhh," she whispered. "It's okay. Whether it was a memory or just a bad dream, it's all going to be okay."

Loki allowed himself to be comforted, although it was several minutes before he could stop his body from shaking. The warm body wrapped around his helped. It was difficult to hold onto the horror when he felt so... cared for. Safe. He smiled into his hands at the idea that the embrace of such a tiny, gentle young woman should grant such a feeling of safety, but somehow it did. Presently he felt strong enough to lower his hands and lift his head to look at her.

"I was falling," he whispered, his eyes haunted. "Falling without end, through dark and cold and emptiness. I screamed just to hear a sound, but even that was weak and hollow in such massive silence. And I knew... I just knew it wasn't going to end." Another shiver went through him and he covered her hand with his own as he added, "Thank you."

Her smile was sad. "You're welcome. Do you want to talk about it more?" He shook his head emphatically. All he wanted was to forget it. The horror of it had been out of all proportion to the simplicity of events, now that he'd framed them into words, but something about the look in the green eyes a few inches from his own reassured him that she knew how deeply it had affected him. She brushed a lock of hair away from his face and placed a soft kiss on his brow, which made him shiver for a completely different reason. "Lie back, Loki. If you like, I'll read to you until you fall asleep again. Keep the dreams at bay."

If he had been in full possession of his wits, he'd probably have been embarrassed. Yet somehow, in the dim light and the quiet of this room, it didn't seem patronising. In fact, he realised that he desperately wanted that gentle touch and soft voice to stay with him while he drifted back to sleep. He gave her a shaky smile. "I'd like that. Thank you. You are, once again, my saviour." He lifted her hand to brush his lips across it lightly and was rewarded with a blushing laugh.

"Lie down, silver-tongue," she scolded him fondly as she turned away to retrieve the flat screen she stored her reading material on. He smothered a smile as he lay back and pulled the covers up around himself. It was reassuring, somehow, to know that he could discomfort her as easily as she did him. He quite enjoyed the gentle teasing games that had developed between them - she was easy to flirt with and her responses always gave him a quiet thrill. One day, perhaps... He squashed the thought ruthlessly. He needed to know himself first. To know who he was and where he was going. But one day...

She settled down beside him again and leaned back against the bedhead. Her free hand stroked his hair as she began to read softly and he sighed. Letting his eyes drift shut, he allowed the quiet murmur of her voice and the whisper of her nails against his scalp carry him away.