Late the same night of the battle, Loki found himself once again bound in chains as he was marched into the palace. Thor had trusted Volstagg to deliver him to the dungeons and Volstagg had done his duty well, leaving Loki at the mercy of the dungeon guards. He was tossed into a small cell and brutally beaten, but as his face pressed against the cool floor while he bled as they laughed and left, all he could think was that at least Grace was safe. No one would see him as weak after their performance at war. He had been so close to destabilising Jotunheim. Even Thor had admitted such as he had dragged his brother from the battle, content that he had done what was needed. His soldiers easily captured the few of Loki's men who did not surrender as they watched their leader, with Mjolner on his chest, dragged by his chained wrists from the battle field.

Odin would be there soon, he knew, to tell him what a terrible son he was, how he had failed and had once again been a disappointment to the realm. Thor would follow, with flowery speaches of brotherhood and the sadness he felt when he thought of what Loki had thrown away. He closed his eyes and focussed on breathing, hoping that the pain in his ribs would subside before he had to speak.

No one, however, came for him, despite his expecations. He was left alone, pressed to the floor, his chains still keeping him from much movement. He decided that the floor was the best place to stay, since he was not leaving it anyway, and contented himself to fall asleep on it.

Late the next morning, Odin arrived, "Are you awake, Loki?"

"Unfortunately, yes."

"I have spoken to both Grace and Fandral."

"Neither names I wish to hear."

"You will hear them. Grace was convinced this was not your idea. She believed in you strongly enough to bring this to my attention and to implicate Fandral for putting poisonous thoughts in your head and to confront him when she heard him bragging of such. Fandral has been assigned a post with the outer guard for the time being."

"This was my idea."

"Even you, with your silver tongue, could not convince me of that. He recalled a conversation mere weeks after Grace's departure during which he attempted to convince you that you were unable to protect her and needed to do something fearsome to reestablish your reputuation as a warrior and also during which he suggested an attack on Jotunheim. Your timing may have been your own, but unless you had considered it prior, he planted the seed."

"So I am incapable of being devious without suggestion? Has my cleverness diminished that far since my fall?"

"No, but Thor and I discussed that unless you believed you were protecting her, you would not risk your time with Grace on such insane ideas." Loki said nothing. Odin sighed before turning to leave, and then called back, "She was something precious to you, was she not? I will send word to her that you have survived. I do not know that you two will ever meet again. I hope you were kind to her when you spoke to her last." He disappeared up the stairs and Loki stayed, unflinching, on the floor, praying that somehow she would forgive him. He would ask Thor to take her a message- something that explained everything.

That afternoon, after Loki had finally pulled himself up onto the cot and slept a little more comfortably, Thor entered his cell with a grim look on his face, "I have some bad news, Brother."

"If it has anything to do with Jotunheim or with your horrid friends, I do not care."

"No. It is Grace. Heimdall cannot send word to her that you survived, as Father promised her. She is gravely injured."

Loki sat up as quickly as his chains allowed, "What? How?" His face was ashen. He struggled to stand, the chains getting in his way. Thor produced a key and released the manacles, tossing the chain under the cot.

"Heimdall says he saw her hit an animal with her car. The car spun on the road and rolled into a ditch. She was not found for a few hours. A passing driver saw the car and called for help. She is receiving medical care at a hospital in Detroit. but lost a lot of blood."

"Will she live?" Thor did not immediately answer and Loki felt as though he might be ill, "Please, Thor, will she live?" He grabbed Thor's arm, his eyes pleading.

"I do not know- she has not opened her eyes since the accident."

Loki sat down hard on the cot, "I made a promise..."

"I must tell Father of this. Hopefully I will have answers when I return." Thor left the cell.

Loki stared at his hands, his thoughts blank. Then came the memories- images of the fun he and Grace had together, the warmth of her skin on his as they slept close together, picnics under the shade of the great trees on the edge of the city. He had to go to her. He promised. That was the only thing he could get his mind to focus on- he had promised to hold her hand as she died and she was quite possibly dying and he had to reach Midgard. There was, of course, a way. One path. He could reach it without magic, but reaching it without being seen was the trick. He quickly roughed out a plan and then looked up, wondering how he would leave the cell as he removed his outer armour and leathers, knowing that it would only weigh him down and could be deadly if things went badly on part of the journey. He stood, and walked over to the barrier, thinking of how he could trick the guards. Nothing seemed like a good plan, but then he noticed it- the barrier was not a solid piece, rather two overlapping halves with just enough space between to slip out of.

This was not how prison barriers were supposed to be. He wondered if Thor had left it for him intentionally. Watching for his opportune moment, he waited, then dashed out of the cell and darted through the dungeon, travelling swiftly through the palace, sliding between the shadows, hoping he would not be seen and apprehended back to his cell. Rather than going up, he went down, deeper into the bowels of the palace, weaving his way through the tunnels that extended under the city. When he descended far enough, he entered a battered wooden doorway and took four damp, steep steps down into murky water that rose past his hips. The water rippled against the walls. He was level with the sea surrounding the city and in near complete darkness.

He took a deep breath before venturing forward, calming himself and focussing on recalling just how to get to the small island containing the cave that would lead him out of the realm. There were other ways to get there, ways that did not involve risking the tunnels being flushed to try to drown him out. Those ways, however, were far too visible and would require climbing the underside of an open bridge in broad daylight. He nervously stepped forward into the tunnel, hoping his feet remembered the way better than his mind did.

Three hundred paces forward. Inch towards the wall. Turn right and feel for the next tunnel. He was six paces from it. He hoped it was the right tunnel. Another fifty paces down that tunnel, find the left wall, and look for the door that would lead down another three stairs, all under water, and bring the water level up to his chest. He found the door, went down the stairs, and started counting. This was the long tunnel that would lead him to the base of the rocks. After two thousand steps, he heard a rumbling and his heart quickened. He quickly found a wall and began to feel for any place he could wedge himself. The rumbling was growing closer. He moved faster, dragging his hands along the slime, praying he would find something. He could feel the current in the water pushing him backwards and heard the squeeking of rats desperately swimming past him. He pressed himself against the wall and moved forward, praying something would save him, when his shoulder hit a crack, a part of the brick that had crumbled away. He wedged himself in it the best he could, tucking his arms in, pressing his hands over his head. The rumble became unbearably loud and the rushing of a huge wave of water roared towards him. The wave hit and threatened to dislodge him from his hiding place, the sound filling his ears, the water drenching him. He held his breath for as long as he could, but his body soon forced him to breathe and he sputtered and coughed as the drenching wave filled his lungs and threatened to drown him.

As Loki struggled to keep his body wedged in the wall, he could only think about the struggle to stay alive, not because his life meant anything in Asgard, but because he had made a promise to Grace that he could not break. His legs began to falter and he feared he would be swept out into the tunnels. This was what they wanted. The flushing of the tunnels after a prisoner escape was standard procedure. Prisoners rarely survived if they made it to the tunnels. He was determined to be the exception, but his body had other ideas. He felt light-headed and weak, his vision blackening from the edges, so much that he did not notice when the wave suddenly stopped, the roar of the water replaced by the trickle dripping from the bricks.

He staggered from the crack and coughed up water, his lungs burning, his throat raw by the time he could finally breathe again. He leaned on the wall, gasping, until he was no longer disoriented. His legs gave out from under him and he caught himself against the wall. The steps grew progessively more steady as he slowly worked his way onward, leaning against the wall as he did. His mind was on high alert, though, and every noise made him jump. When he felt the change in the texture of the wall, he knew he had reached where the tunnel changed from brick to carved directly into the rock. He ran his hand along, looking for a door. When he found it, he was relieved to see the decaying steps rising out of the water up to the light where the tunnel emptied under the bridge. There would still be some risk in his trek- the last feet from the tunnel's exit to the cave entrace would be completely exposed and it was likely he would be seen by anyone on the bridge. It was a frightening prospect to have come through the flushing of the tunnels and to be so close to the passage to Midgard to then face the very real prospect of failure. He took a deep breath as he stepped out under the bridge.

Loki's eyes traced his path up the side of the cliff to the cave opening, which was hidden from view from the bridge but plainly visible from the water. The path, however, was clearly visible from the bridge. He gathered his courage and climbed into the light, swiftly working up the side of the cliff, glancing over at the bridge. It was nearly empty. He kept climbing, his footing sure, his hands seeking good purchase as he climbed. When he finally pulled himself up over the edge of the cave floor, he was exhausted and chilled from the breeze over the water and collapsed for a moment of rest.

Little did he know that a small boy out walking with his mother tugged on her dress as he panted just inside the cave, "Mother, I just saw the prince."

She looked around, "Where?"

"There, on the rocks."

She shook her head, "What an imagination you have!" and they continued on their walk. The little boy glanced back over his shoulder, hoping to get another glimpse, knowing he had not imagined what he saw.

When Loki finally caught his breath, he made his way back into the cave to the place where it branched in different directions. He chose the branch he knew led to Midgard and walked on, his clothes damp, his muscles very tired. When he stepped through the portal, he found himself in a decrepit warehouse, the rain pounding on the roof, a chill in the air, little rivers of water running down the walls to puddle on the floor. He thanked whatever powers there were in the universe that his soaked clothes would not be odd in the rain. He wondered, however, just where he was in Midgard. He found a stairwell and left the building, the rain cold against his skin. He found a road and started walking, hoping he would eventually find a sign that would tell him where he was, but at the same time, not really paying very close attention to where he was walking. His knowledge of the geography of Earth was limited and while he knew that was the planet he was on, he had very little idea as to just how far he was from Detroit.

As the grey day faded into night, Loki decided to find a place to sit- he had been walking for hours, that he knew, but he still felt no closer to where he needed to be. The road had turned a few times, and it had ended at another and he had chosen a new route, but he still barely knew where he was. He knew the country was one that spoke Grace's language, as he could read the signs on businesses, but he did not dare ask where he was for fear of sounding like he was crazy and alerting any form of authority to his presence, especially any authority with ties to S.H.I.E.L.D.. So instead, he simply kept walking.

Eventually, he came to a very large park and stepped inside, seeking out a bench. He sat, dropped his head into his hands, and closed his eyes, scared he would miss his opportunity to fulfil his promise.

Someone tapped him on the shoulder, "Excuse me, sir, but it's late and the park is supposed to be closed. You'll have to move along."

"Oh. Forgive me, I was unaware of that." Loki stood and saw a young police officer standing beside the bench, "May you have a quiet night."

He turned to leave, but the officer stopped him, "Just one moment- are you quite alright? You're utterly drenched."

"I have been walking for many hours. I am a bit lost as well."

"Lost? Can I help you find somewhere?"

"Likely not. I came from the countryside hoping to find a way to get to my dear aunt, recently injured in Detroit. I have no means by which to travel to her and I fear she is dying alone, as I am her sole remaining family member."

The young officer's face fell, "Oh, that's god-awful news. You said you don't have a way to get a flight?"

"Correct."

"Come with me. I know a church not far from here that helps people get back to family when there are dire circumstances. I'll give them a call and we'll see if they can help you this late at night."

Loki felt a flicker of hope, "Really?"

"Yeah." He gestured for Loki to follow him and led him to a police car, offering him a seat while he made a phone call. A few minutes later, they left the park and the officer was introducing Loki to a woman in a long black robe, "Sister Mary, this man's got a problem you might be able to help him with. Says his aunt is gravely injured and he needs a flight to Detroit to get to her."

Sister Mary smiled warmly and gently took Loki's arm, "You're soaked to the bone, young man, please, come inside. Thank you, Thomas, I'll take care of him from here." She led Loki into a warm parish house parlour where a fire was dimly flickering behind an iron grate. She put another log on it and pulled a bench close to it, "Sit, warm yourself. I will be back in a few moments and you can tell me your story." He did as she asked and, true to her word, in a few moments she returned, "Sister Alice is fetching a few dry garments for you. Please, tell me what has brought you here."

"My dear Aunt Grace, my only remaining family, was gravely injured in a car accident in the city of Detroit. I have walked for hours to get to the city in order to find a way to her, as I have no car. I left as soon as I heard the news, but I fear that I may still not get to her in time. I promised her that she would not die alone and I may miss my chance to keep that promise."

Sister Alice entered the room with a neatly folded pile of clothes, "Please, if anything in this pile fits, take it. It is not healthy for you to be this wet."

Sister Mary retrieved a small laptop from next to her chair, "Now let's see what flights we can find for you."

"Thank you- I have no money to pay you for your kindness, though."

"No need. Just pass the kindness on to someone else when you can," Sister Mary replied, "Now, do you have any papers you can use to get overseas?"

"No. I have nothing. I am, for all intents and purposes, a man without a country. I was brought here as a child and have never had documents to prove who I am- I was educated at home to avoid questions."

Sister Mary's typing paused, "That will make things a little more difficult, but we can do this. I have my ways."

Sister Alice nudged him, "Now while she works her magic, you come with me and get yourself dry. There is no need for you to catch a cold. You'll need all your strength when you get to your aunt." Loki followed her to a small, sparse guestroom and she put the folded clothes on the bed, "It is likely that Sister Mary won't be able to find you a flight until morning. If so, you are welcome to stay here." She left before he could express his gratitude. As Loki sorted through the clothes and chose a button up and suit trousers, he realised just how easily the lies were coming to him and flowing from his lips. As he dressed, he noticed the bruises on his arms and chest. The beating the guards had given him had left many marks. He went to the mirror over the dresser and saw the bruises on his face and realised he looked as though he had been in a recent brawl. It was no wonder the police officer had stopped him and asked if he was alright. He certainly did not look it. He hung his wet garments over the back of a chair in front of the guestroom fireplace and returned to the sitting room where Sister Mary was still diligently working to find him a way to Grace.

"Well, because you don't have a passport, I've had do be a little creative. We have a few clergy members flying on a private plane to a peace conference in New York early tomorrow morning. I don't have a way to get you to Detroit from there, but I think I can get you past the immigration officers."

"My aunt has a friend in New York- I may be able to find a way to get to Detroit through him. I will be grateful for whatever help you can give." He settled into a comfortably worn armchair, "I do not want to ask too much."

"Oh, don't you worry about that. We'll do what we can for you... You know, I don't think we ever caught your name."

"James Odinson." It was the first name that came to his head that he thought would not be recognised, yet would still alert anyone in the Tower.

"Well, James, I don't think I can get you to Detroit, but I can get you to New York. Are you sure your aunt's friend will be able to help you?"

"I think I there is a good chance he will. He was always a kind man."

"Good, good. You go get some rest. We will see you on your way in the morning."

Loki knew Asgard would be searching for him and was terrified he would be found in the night and swept back to the dungeons before he had a chance to see Grace, but he knew there was no other way to get to her than to wait. He settled into the soft bed and found himself falling asleep more quickly than he thought he could. The day had certainly taken its toll on him and he happily surrendered to the night.

Very early the next morning, as the day just started breaking, Sister Alice gently shook him awake, "Come, Sister Mary's made breakfast. Your flight leaves in just a few hours."

She showed him to the bathroom and he showered and dressed, the cuffs of the shirt nicely hiding the silver dampening cuffs that were still around his wrists. He joined the two nuns for breakfast and then was handed a small suitcase and ushered out to a waiting car.

"May your travels be pleasant, even though you have a rough road ahead, young man," Sister Mary said as she waved goodbye.

Loki smiled at her over his shoulder, "Thank you. Thank you both so much. I will be sure to tell Aunt Grace of your kindness."

His flight was uneventful, the clergy members on the flight quiet the entire time they were in the air. One of them lent him a copy of the Bible to read and told him to start reading with the Gospels. Loki did as he was instructed and found the stories fascinating. The priest told him to keep the book as they parted ways, insisting that if he had never read it before, he ought to at least give it a chance. Loki tucked it into his bag, eager to keep reading. Again, Loki started walking, not entirely knowing where he was going, but watching for signs that would direct him to the heart of the city from the private airfield upon which they had landed.

A passing trucker slowed down and his companion called out the window to Loki as he left the airport, "You OK? You look lost."

"I am making my way to New York City. So long as I am heading in the right direction, I am fine, thank you."

She looked stunned, "Do you have any idea how far it is to the city from here? You'd be walking all day. Don't you have a car?"

"No, I do not."

She sighed, "Well we're not headed far from here, so we won't be much help, but do you have anyone you can call? I'll lend you my phone."

"I do not know the number. But thank you for the offer."

"So who do I have to look up to come get you then?"

"Dr Bruce Banner of Stark Tower. Or Mr Steve Rogers. Either will suffice."

"Captain America?"

"He knows who I am, yes. I seek his help in reaching our mutual friend who has been gravely injured."

The occupants of the truck cab deliberated for a moment before she leaned out the window, "Johnny's looking up the numbers. What's your name, son?"

"James Odinson." He hoped either man would be sharp enough to recognise the last name.

"Alrighty, James- come on over, we'll get you the phone." Loki stepped up to the truck and she opened the door so she could more easily hand him the phone, "Couldn't find the Captain's number, but did find you a Bruce Banner. I hope he's the right one."

The phone was ringing as Loki held it to his ear; a familiar voice answered, "Dr Banner here. I'm kind of busy, so unless this is really important, can I call you back?"

"It is quite important, actually. This is James Odinson- I have just arrived here by way of London and I am stranded without transportatoin to the city. I need assistance reaching Miss Grace, and given the condition I was told she is in, I need it quite quickly."

Silence, then Bruce answered, "James L Odinson, right?"

"Of course, you know another?"

"Just wanted to make sure I had the right Odinson. Where are you?"

"A very good question- allow me to ask the delightful woman whose phone I have borrowed." He looked up to the couple in the truck, "What city is this and how might I best direct him to find me?"

"Hand over the phone, I'll give directions."

Loki told Bruce what was happening and the woman talked to him for a few minutes before hanging up, "OK, so you're going to meet him just up the road. There's a doughnut shop on the corner and he'll be here in about an hour." She shuffled something beside her and handed him a few bills, "Here. I'm guessing you don't have any cash on you since you can't call a cab. Take it and get yourself a little something to eat while you're waiting."

He accepted the gift, "Thank you. I have been shown great kindness in this journey."

"Yeah, well just pass it on when you can. And I hope you get to your friend in time, whatever it is that happened to her."

"Car accident, and quite a bad one, from what I was told. But yes, again, thank you."

She shut the truck door, "Right up here on the corner- make a left, you'll see the sign." The driver started the engine again and pulled away from the side of the road. Loki went to the doughnut shop, bought himself a sandwich, a doughnut, and a coffee, tucking what other money he had been given into the suitcase Sister Mary and Sister Alice had packed for him. He took out the Bible he had been given and contented himself with reading it while he waited.

"James?" Bruce sat down across from him, "Since when do you use a name that's not your own?"

"I will explain when we are at the Tower. I have had a long flight and would like a moment to rest and seek information before I figure out the next leg of my journey. You have heard what has happened to Miss Grace?"

"No. What and who told you?"

"Heimdall watches her closely. She was gravely injured in a car accident- she struck an animal. I do not know her condition other than Thor said Heimdall reports she is not awake. I do not know exactly how much time has passed since- perhaps 3 quarters of a day?"

"Get your stuff together. I'll call Steve when we get to the car."

Loki picked up his book and suitcase, cleared his table, and followed Bruce, "Thank you for picking me up. I was willing to walk, but the woman in the truck insisted I call."

"It's a good thing you did- I looked this place up on the map before driving out here and it would have taken you close to 11 hours to walk to the city. Why on earth didn't you just land at the Tower?"

They settled in the car and Loki chucked ruefully, "Ah...I would rather only tell that story once. So if you do not mind, I would prefer to wait until we are at Stark Tower."

"I'll have Steve gather the few of us old folks still there. You'd better not be in trouble."

"Oh, inevitably I am. But at the same time, I still have no use of my magic and this time I am desperate to fill a promise, not to prove myself king, so it should not be trouble to any of you."

Bruce turned on the radio and listened to something soothing, "Sorry, but the traffic gets to me sometimes."

"Understood."

They were silent the entire drive into the city. When they reached the Tower, Bruce ushered him straight up to the penthouse where Pepper and Steve were waiting. After brief greetings, Steve asked what was going on.

"Miss Grace, is, according to Heimdall, is quite greviously injured after hitting a large creature with her car. I need your assistance to get to her- I promised her many years ago shortly after Mr Stark's death that I would hold her hand as she passed and I do not intend to break that promise."

"So why didn't you just go straight to Detroit?" Pepper asked.

"I had to escape imprisonment to reach Midgard and could not travel by way of the Bifrost."

Steve broke the rather awkward moment of silence that followed, "Imprisoned?"

"Yes. I led a contingent of rabble into Jotunheim to prove to those who had assaulted Miss Grace upon her previous visit that I was formitable enough that I could protect her and would do so at any cost."

"Wait, you tried to start an inter-realm war to prove yourself? Again?" Bruce asked.

"Essentially. Only this time it was not for my own advancement, but for Miss Grace's safety."

"And now you want us to help you?" Pepper was confused, "Why would you even think we would?"

Loki bowed his head, his heart sinking, "This is for Miss Grace. Not for myself. I promised her I would be beside her in the same way you were, Miss Pepper, for her brother. She was terrified of crossing into the great beyond on her own, alone, when I made this vow to her. I will not, and cannot, let her do so if I am at all capable of sitting by her side."

Steve too a deep breath, "So all you need is to get to Detroit?"

"Yes. And I can walk to her apartment no matter where in the city you drop me. I walked five hours between the entrance to this world and the park in London, I can walk into Detroit if you would rather leave me on the outskirts of the city."

Bruce shrugged, "OK. I think we can do that. For Grace."

"Yeah, for Grace," Pepper added, "Because we certainly aren't doing it for the genocidal maniac."

"Pepper..." Steve warned. She glared back at him and then left the room.

Loki was uncomfortable, "Have I said something to offend?"

"No. But Pepper has...she..." Steve could not think of the right words to say what he had to in a polite way.

Bruce decided blunt was best, "Pepper blames you for Tony's death. She blames other people, too, but we all took one hell of a beating thanks to you."

"Ah. I see. Then I ask that you help me to leave quickly so I might cause no further distress to her."

Steve checked something on his tablet, "Grace's room is empty. Tony left you money to take care of her- I'll find you a flight, but you can rest in her room for a while."

"I have no papers to prove my identity. It made things difficult for Sister Mary."

"Sister Mary?"

"My flight between London and New York was thanks to the dilligent late-night work of Sister Mary and Sister Alice. Their colleagues were flying privately to a peace conference and they arranged for me to join them in order to bypass the need for papers."

"You went to nuns for help? How did you even find them?"

"Fortuitous circumstance and a kind young officer of the law who found me, drenched, sitting in a park after hours in the rain."

Bruce stood, "Grace would say you've been a lucky bastard."

Loki smiled, "Yes, yes she would."

"Come on, let's get something to eat while Steve figures out how to get you to Detroit." They went to Grace's apartment and Bruce ordered pizza. The rooms were bare, no decoration, only a few pieces of furniture, and none of the traces of her that had made it feel so much like home. He settled onto the couch and memories flooded his mind from what little time he had spent there, the strongest being their movie marathon, curled up beside her on the couch, falling asleep with her warm against him. Then to sharing the bed in Detroit and the first time she invited him to stay the night in her room in Asgard. He realised that it was likely, whether or not he could see her, whether or not she lived or died, that he would never have the opportunity to share that closeness with her again and he felt as though his heart had been sucked out of his chest, leaving him hollow. He dropped his head into his hands.

Bruce came back into the room from the kitchen, having raided it for plates, to find Loki wallowing in despair on the couch, "So...you look like somebody just punched a kitten. What's on your mind?"

"Miss Grace. I have likely destroyed any chance that I will ever see her again in my effort o protect her."

"You're going to have to start from the beginning. What happened that she suddenly needed your protection? And why would it lead to you never seeing her again? I thought Odin was cool with her visiting as long as it was good for you?"

"One of the guards attempted to force a kiss, perhaps intending more, the last time she was in Asgard. Thor's friend, Fandral, convinced me that this was because I was seen as no threat, weak, and simply an annoyance that could be swept aside if someone so wished to harm her. I believed every word and that is why I took a small army into Jotunheim. Thor defeated us easily, the combined forces of Jotunheim and Asgard no match for the ragtag group of mercinaries."

"Is that why you look like someone beat the shit out of you?"

"No, that is because the guards actually did beat the shit out of me, as you say, upon my being delivered to the dungeon in Asgard."

One of the building security guards delivered their pizza and Bruce gestured for Loki to come out to the kitchen table, "That sucks. Is that normal for new prisoners?"

"I do not know, but I am seen as the perpetual traitor, so I may be the exception for such...special...treatment."

"So are you going to go back willingly?"

"I have little choice. Without my magic, I am unlikely to be able to hide for long. I have made myself very visible by coming here- Thor will be searching for me and knows that Miss Grace is my priority. I will have no chance to escape the wrath of Asgard this time."

They ate quietly for a little while, Bruce asking after a few moments, "Do you think it's worth it?"

"Unquestionably yes."

Not long after, Steve delivered news that the company jet would be ready within the hour. Bruce invited him to help them finish the pizza. Bruce wished Loki the best of luck and then Steve escorted him down to the lobby to the car that would take him to the company jet. A few hours later, Loki found himself in Detroit. Steve called for a cab and escorted him to the Depot. He was not used to entering through the front door and their security guard was initially suspicious, but when he recognised Captain America, he let both men pass without further question.

Steve used the key Grace had left him for emergencies to let Loki into the apartment, "Do you want me to stay with you, or will you be fine here on your own?"

"I think I would like some time alone, thank you- it has been a hurried journey and I have not yet had the opportunity to think of what I will say to her when I find her."

Steve nodded, "Well good luck. Call if you need anything." Loki said goodbye and the door clicked closed as Steve left. He found Grace's tablet and took a deep breath, trying to remember how to navigate it to find phone numbers- something he had seen her do only a few times. She had a land line as well as her mobile phone and she had told him once how to use it in case he arrived at the apartment and she was, for some reason, not there.

He carefully turned on the tablet and pushed the icon he remembered would allow him to serach for things and searched for Detroit hospitals. He knew that she had once said that if anything ever happened to her, she preferred Henry Ford, but he did not know if that was where she was taken after the accident. He carefully wrote down the phone numbers and began calling each one, asking if Grace Stark was a patient of theirs, explaining that he was family- her nephew- seeking news of her condition. One by one, he eliminated hospitals, but he did, indeed, find her at the Henry Ford Hospital. He asked for an address, looked for directions on the tablet's maps, and was getting ready to leave when there was a sharp rapping on the door.

He knew, even before he looked through the peep-hole, who he would find on the other side of the door, "Thor, please, just a little longer." Thor said nothing, but advanced into the room as Loki opened the door, shoving him backwards, "Thor, do not take me back. I have only just discovered that she is yet living, but I have no idea of her condition."

Thor knocked Loki to the ground, "Father grows impatient with your repeated treason. You are called back to Asgard immediately."

Loki pulled himself to his knees and grabbed Thor's trousers, desperate, "Thor, please, I beg of you- if it were Jane, what would you do? I will do anything- anything- to be with her."

Thor shoved him off and he fell backwards, "Do you think that will work? Do you think I will grant you mercy if you invoke Jane?"

Loki's voice only grew more frantic as he yelled at his brother, "Have you never considered what she is to me, whether or not she sees me the same? Have you never thought of this? Have you never considered that you are not the only prince of Asgard who cares deeply for one of Midgard?" He propped himself on his elbows, breathing heavily, angry at Thor and hurt that his brother had never considered what he felt for Grace. "I made her a promise, Thor. A promise I will be keeping, one way or another. And you have the choice to bring me back to Asgard, beating me so thoroughly that I cannot seek her out until she is dead, or giving me just a few days. Say you have not yet found me. That is the least you could do for me, and more importantly, for her." Thor towered over him, Mjolner dangerously close to Loki's chest, "You may do what you will with me once I have fulfilled this promise. We can return to bludgeoning one another into oblivion as before, or you can turn me over to Thanos, or just kill me yourself. But you will not make me a liar to her."

Thor stepped back, "You? Not a liar? Since when has that been a concern to you, Brother?"

Loki slowly sat up and folded his legs in front of him, his hands resting on his knees as he stared at the dark green carpet, "If you have noticed nothing different since I had to earn her visits and keep them, you are more blind than our one-eyed father."

Thor studied Loki carefully, watching his posture, listening to the tone of his voice, "You are sincere." Loki said nothing. "She is truly your Jane?"

"Yes," Loki whispered.

"You have until sundown tomorrow. Then I will find you ."

"If I know she will live, I will be here. If I do not yet know, I will flee you so that I may fulfil my promise."

"I will see you tomorrow night." Thor left quickly, the door slamming shut behind him. Loki was shaking as he slowly stood. He dropped onto Grace's couch and deflated. After a few moments spent gathering his thoughts, he decided that it was time he set out for the hospital. He straightened his clothes and checked his directions, remembering that Grace had told him if there was ever an emergency, to check the little centre drawer in her desk. He did and found a manilla envelope containing an ID card, a bus pass, a credit card in his name, and a sheet of instructions on how to use the card and where he could find a slim leather wallet in which to keep them. He followed her directions and slipped the cards into the little pockets, a small amount of cash in the main billfold and her apartment key tucked neatly beside it.

He tucked it into his rear pocket and set out for the hospital on foot.