"What the hell is that?" Max pointed at the sleek black vehicle loitering in front of the main entrance to Lenox Hill.

Loki eased her toward the curb slowly, one hand on her back while the other clutched her duffle bag. "Our transportation."

"Yeah, I know…" Her eyebrows furrowed as she studied the almost limousine, which hummed to life once they were close enough. "What the hell though?"

A capped driver in a pressed suit darted out of the front and hurried around the car to get their door. The line of family members waiting to get into the hospital watched them get sorted, their eyes fixed to Max and Loki's every action, and she scrambled in quickly. Once Loki was in beside her, the driver slammed the door.

"It was arranged for us." And with that, the car eased away from the curb, leaving Lenox Hill behind her for the time being.

A week and a half. She had been stuck in that hospital suite for a full week and a half, having no one for company other than Loki and her medical team. Thor had made an appearance twice, but he never stayed for long, and he usually left when Loki's foul mood became unbearable—which then put her in a bad mood, and it was this whole vicious cycle that no one wanted to acknowledge. Otherwise, it was all dietitians and nurses and Doctor Donna Fisher wanting to poke and prod her.

Thus far, she had refused every offer for baby care: no ultrasound, no lectures, no visits from baby-specific doctors. She took the prenatal vitamins because she felt guilty when she didn't, and they were easy to disguise as pain medication whenever Loki noticed them.

For now, she didn't want to know anything beyond the fact that she was pregnant. Max didn't want to know what features should be developing around this time, and she didn't want to see some black and white image on a screen that would make it all real. There were too many other issues for her to stress about now that the world was righting itself, and pregnancy was a big, fat one that would take up too much of her energy.

And she hadn't told Loki. She still couldn't bring herself to do it, though the word liked to pop into her head whenever they were talking. He had every right to know, but she wanted to address it when she had a clearer idea about what she wanted to do about it. For now, she liked to pretend she wasn't pregnant—which sort of seemed like a sign in itself. Unfortunately, the morning sickness showing up at various times throughout the day made that extra difficult. It wasn't every day that she was sick, but when she was, Loki threw a fit at the nearest nurse, claiming they weren't taking adequate care of Max, and she would have to remind them—in private—that Loki didn't know about anything, and that was the way she wanted it to be for now.

There was also a lot of apologizing from her on Loki's behalf. Despite her offers to leave, to go wander the city or travel somewhere with Thor, Loki stayed in her suite day and night. By the end of the week and a half, she knew he was getting restless. He flicked through TV channels, even when she asked him to stop at something she liked. He was short with all the hospital staff, and he seemed to always sigh like the weight of all the world sat on his shoulders.

She loved him, but Max wanted him to go away for a little while. Just an hour or two at a time so that they could each recharge separately. He must not have noticed, because Loki sat next her bed until the bitter end. He watched her few physical therapy sessions, which were unnecessary and painful, and hovered whenever she had a shower. He was there when she fell asleep, there when she woke up, and there when she threw up her most recent meal. It was a lot of Loki. It was usually sweet, supportive, patient Loki, but even that had found a way to dance on her last nerves during recovery.

Of course she was grateful. She wasn't sure if she would be as strong as she was today if he hadn't been with her—she was just being petty. How unfortunate for her that she had a caring significant other who sat by her side and pulled bits of barf out of her hair. So, on top of her frustration, she felt guilt too. Guilt for keeping this big secret from him, guilt for being annoyed at his helpful hovering behind closed doors and shower curtains. And that didn't even begin to address the guilt she had for not trying harder to reach her parents, but she didn't know where to start.

"How are you feeling?" She could feel his voice rumble in his chest as she settled against it, his arm wrapping around her carefully. It took a few tries to get adjusted, but she eventually found a comfortable way to lean.

"Okay."

How else was she supposed to describe it? The majority of the bruising in her face had started to fade, which made it less jarring to look at herself in the mirror. Her nose didn't need its wrappings for more than a few days, and by now most of the swelling had gone down. All she had left as a reminder for the damage done there was a twinge of pain every so often, and the yellow and brown marks across the bridge. The rest of her body followed in her face's footsteps: heavy bruising turned light, and after about a week, she was able to sit or sleep without wanting to cry.

Everything was still sore. She was tired all the time, and her appetite returned with gusto once she started sleeping properly again. Increased appetite seemed to lead to increased morning sickness, however, and she tried to control herself whenever possible—jello was the only exception, of course. The nightmares endured, but after the first week, Loki was able to share her bed again, and she found that made scary dreams a little less awful when she awoke in a panic.

"The city looks… okay too," she noted, eyes fixed on the window at the scenery rolling by in the slow midday traffic.

Midday traffic. Busy midday traffic. There were more cars on the road now than she had seen since the start of May, and she flinched when the driver honked at a guy who cut them off. People and traffic littered the streets. Shop windows were partially mended. Women had shopping bags in one hand, a leashed dog in the other. There were smiles between couples, and blank, emotionless faces for those plugged in to a phone or a set of headphones. It almost looked like a normal day in Manhattan. Clusters of people crossed the streets together.

She frowned when she saw a Fourth of July advertisement in the front window of a convenience store, advertising discounts on all goods for the day.

Loki nodded, his chin resting on her head. "Humans have the wonderful ability to spring back from tragedy."

"We do our best."

"That you do."

Her hand found his, and the guilt she felt for being annoyed with him reared its ugly head, making her nauseous. It was either that or morning sickness, which she hadn't experienced today as of yet.

According to various news sources, the rest of the Pagurolids fell quickly. Major cities were taken first, courtesy of Stark's serum, and smaller townships and counties were gassed in the aftermath. Death camps were evacuated. People were in the process of being shipped home. Conspiracy theorists appeared on late-night talk shows to tell the world they thought it was all a government takeover gone wrong—or that the Pagurolids weren't really dead, they just wanted everyone to think it. Reality TV started to reappear. TV shows came on as reruns. Presidents and kings and prime ministers and group leaders made global addresses for various world peace organizations. Press covered the carnage, but also the Avengers—a lot of the Avengers.

All this she gathered from watching hours and hours of television over the last week and a half. There was still so much for her to learn, to experience in this new world, and she wanted to get started while she could. She wanted to ignore her bank account, her rent payments, utility charges, and job status. Max wanted love. She wanted the happy reunions between family members that were featured as human interest stories on the news. She wanted to find all of them.

Her hand tightened around Loki's when they drove by the street where it all happened—where some soldier beat her to near unconsciousness, Valeria probably had nightmares of her own about, and Franklin had his childhood innocence stolen. His free hand went to her hair, stroking it soothingly, and soon after they were gone, dodging gaping potholes as they went. The whole city was in a constant state of construction, but it seemed there was no shortage of men and women in hardhats and orange vests to get the work done.

On almost every major avenue, there was a soup-kitchen-esque stand set up, and the people hovering around it broke her heart. She could have been one of them. It hadn't been for Loki, she could have been dead, tortured, infected, or broken. Hello again, guilt.

"Wait… Where are we going?"

So far, Max had gone with the flow of everything. She did as her nurses and doctors instructed. She ate what was prepared for her. It needed to stop sometime. She had things to do and people to find, and yet she couldn't keep everyone from taking her one way or the other.

"Thor has had a room prepared for us in Tony Stark's tower." She sat up to meet Loki's gaze, but he seemed intent on keeping it on the curbside entertainment. There was a chill to his tone. "Apparently we are all staying there. All the… heroes of the war."

Max cleared her throat when she noticed the driver watching them in the mirror, the car idling at a red light. He looked away quickly when he spotted her studying him. With that sorted, she looked back, still keeping her hand wrapped around Loki's, and then sighed. "Do you want to stay there? Stark Tower isn't exactly—"

"It's the Avengers Tower now, my sweet," he corrected lightly. "They're all… congregated there."

His expression was tight as he spoke, and Max wondered if that was the reason he hadn't left her hospital suite all this time: he didn't want to be alone with any of them. She didn't know them, but she knew that Loki fought against them last time he was on Earth, before he even met her, and she could imagine the relationships weren't all roses and sunshine.

"But, for the time being," he continued, bringing her hand to his lips and kissing her palm, "you will find Sue and Johnny and the children have a floor to themselves."

She smiled at the thought, though her stomach gave a nervous twist too. Not once had any of them come to visit her in the hospital, and she couldn't help but wonder if Sue was upset with her for putting the kids in harm's way. After all, Max could have hid by the tower in one of the other buildings and waited until everyone showed up—that made the most logical sense now, but hindsight is twenty-twenty.

"How long are we going to stay there?" He glanced down at her when she asked the question, and then licked his lips.

"I cannot say. I don't feel comfortable moving you back to your apartment when the city is still unstable."

"Looks pretty stable to me." A cluster of pre-teens jogged across the road, darting in and out of traffic, rushing by their window. "Things seem… normal."

"There are always problems below the surface." They turned onto Columbus Circle, merging with the few cars in the roundabout. She could see the famous Stark Tower—now named otherwise, apparently—in the distance, and she realized it wasn't actually all that far from Sue and Reed's demolished tower. Maybe ten or fifteen blocks at the most. "Let me assess the situation before we decide to leave."

"But—"

"As of this moment, the Avengers Tower," he sounded disgusted to say it, "is the safest place in the city."

Max nodded. It was easy to understand that, yes, the logical choice would be to wait for all the rough patches to pass. But she wanted to go home. She wanted to see if Pat found her way back to their shared apartment, and then check on Garret and Tiffany. She knew she couldn't go back to work at the museum, but she wanted to check on her boss and his wife. Her to-do list was miles long, and she didn't want to sit around in another tower waiting to get started on it.

But she could see his point. Begrudgingly, she knew he was right. They had just survived an invasion: there was no sense in acting reckless now. She'd keep an eye on the news. She'd convince Loki to take her places. She could get all of this to work in her favour—somehow.

The first thing she noticed as they pulled up to the extravagant building in Midtown Manhattan was the cluster of photographers. Once the car was idle at the curb, they swarmed the door, camera flashes hindered by the tinted windows.

"What the actual fuck?" Max murmured, leaning over Loki to get a better look at the people. Some were wearing badges that indicated what media outlet they worked for, while others were just in regular street clothes.

"My apologies," the driver interjected. "I should have taken you around back. The press have been relentless over Mr. Stark's return to the city."

"Oh."

"The rest of the Avengers aren't immune to it either, unfortunately." Loki rolled his eyes at the thought.

"Fetch my lady's bag," he snapped, taking her hand and shoving the door open so harshly that it knocked two photographers to the ground. "Ensure it is set in her room."

"I can… carry it…" Max trailed off at the storm of voices that greeted her and Loki as they gingerly stepped out of the car. None of them made any sense: she occasionally heard Tony Stark's name thrown about, along with the words invasion, last Saturday, and Loki. Thor's name popped up a few times in the pandemonium, and she ducked her head down at the camera lights. She couldn't have carried her bag. She couldn't have even popped around to the trunk to grab it: there wasn't any room to do so.

True to form, Loki was having none of the craziness, and she huddled behind him as he shoved through the crowd of people. A boxy doorman was their salvation, and he ushered the duo in. Questions about how she was feeling, what she was doing there, and who she worked for were muffled by the thick Plexiglas doors. Max glanced over her shoulder at the chaos, and then briefly wondered if her bag was a lost cause.

"Thor gave me no warning of that," Loki grumbled, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and ushering her to a set of elevators across the lobby.

"Maybe it's a new thing?"

Stark Tower… Avengers Tower's lobby looked remarkably well intact. She couldn't be sure if the well-kept interior had been this way throughout the invasion, but it barely looked touched as she hurried through it. Pristine tile flooring met marble columns and walls, and there was a vacant reception desk to her far left. Windows encompassed the front area, giving insiders a sweeping view of the street and press mob waiting on the other side of the glass.

"There was none of… that," Loki waved over his shoulder as the elevator opened, "when I was last here."

"You mean when you tried to take over the world?"

He shot her a look as they settled next to one another, but her smile softened his steely expression.

"I have been to this building twice in the last week. Once when you sent me away, and the other while you slept."

"Oh."

That was probably why they breezed by security guards without any issues. She'd seen a few of them around the outskirts of the lobby—out of sight and out of mind, apparently.

"There is a main floor where they tend to congregate," he continued, and Max watched the numbers fly by over the doors. "I suspect that is where we will find Sue. Our room is on Thor's floor."

"Which is?"

"Forty-six, I believe."

"Cool." She had a room in the former Stark Tower. How many nights had she and Pat wandered by it on the way to a swanky Midtown bar, gossiping together about all the secrets inside the mammoth building? Too many to count, and now she was in it like it was no big deal. The elevator stopped on the thirty-third floor, and she linked her hand with his as they stepped out. Despite it being uncharted territory, the hallway's decor had a similar vibe to Reed and Sue's common areas.

Did rich superheroes share the same interior decorator?

The elevator ride made her a little nauseous, and she stopped just outside the doors, closing her eyes and taking a few deeps breaths.

"Are you alright?"

"Just a little shaky," she told him, which wasn't technically a lie. "It's fine."

He waited by her side until she felt stable enough to carry on, fairly sure she wouldn't double-over and ruin Stark's expensive tiles—or weird, shaggy rugs. Her palms were sweaty though, and not even Loki's cool touch could fix that. He seemed not to notice, and instead stopped her just shy of a doorway, from which voices poured out of.

"I'll fetch Sue." She nodded when he touched her cheek, his knuckles ghosting over her skin, and then watched him hurry down the hall. Not once did he linger by the door, nor did he look inside to see if any of the Fantastic Four were around. No, he carried on, and she figured he knew that no one he wanted was in the room. The hall led on in his absence, and Max noticed several closed doors along the way, and then a foyer of sorts at the very far end, which she needed to step to the side and peer around the bend in order to see.

"…seen Loki yet?"

The mention of his name from the other room caught her attention, and Max sidled closer, fiddling with the fabric of her t-shirt. She was still dressed in Sue's hand-me-downs, as there was nothing for Loki to borrow otherwise. Although, now that she thought about it: where had Sue found these clothes? All of hers would have gone up in flames like the rest of the tower. She tugged at the hem of the yellow t-shirt, pushing those thought from her mind.

"I thought he was getting his girlfriend from the hospital today."

Men. There were a few different voices, but she had yet to hear a woman speak.

"Jarvis says they just got here." Tony Stark. After years of listening to him on the radio or watching him on TV, he sounded just like he did when she called him in a panic two years ago after Loki's disappearance. "Should be around anytime now."

"Good grief."

"What?"

"Well, come on, we're already letting one crazy stay here… Now we'll have two?"

"What makes you think she'll be crazy?"

"If she's anything like him…" Max bristled at the thought, her cheeks flushing. "Well, we might just want to put her on some surveillance. Thor's keeping Loki in check, but who's going to keep her under control?"

"Come on." Stark again. Max's hands fisted. "She's from Vermont… She was a college kid a few years ago. We don't have to worry about her."

Her ears perked when something clinked noisily, like ice against glass, and bit the insides of her cheeks.

"Still… Banner has a point." There was a pause accompanied by a loud slurping sound—purposefully obnoxious. "If she's with him willingly, there's bound to be something wrong."

Not Stark. Someone else. Before she thought about the consequences of her actions, Max stepped into the doorway, her arms crossed so stiffly that it hurt.

"There isn't, actually." Her voice came out with surprising force: no quivers or shakes or faults. "There isn't anything wrong with me, but thanks for the assumptions."

She had guessed Tony Stark correctly. He stood in a grand room, one with windows that ran from the floor to the impossibly high ceiling. Chairs, couches, loveseats in black leather were fixed around a grand hearth, and there were two bars in the back. She assumed it was some kind of a lounge, and judging by the height of the brown liquid in Stark's glass, the mini-fridge was definitely stocked.

Oooh, the thought of alcohol made her a little queasy. Her eyes darted between the other two men, and one was immediately recognizable: Captain America. He might have been in civilian attire, but she had seen more than enough magazine articles and vintage posters around Manhattan alone to pick him out of a line-up. Therefore, by process of elimination, she assumed the third dark-haired man was the Banner guy. She glared in the baffled silence, and then spoke as the Captain rose from his chair, his hands up.

"I'm a normal person, thank you very much." When she started, she had no idea where any of this was going, but she was having verbal morning sickness, and it seemed that couldn't be stopped. "I pay my taxes, I work a nine to five every day… well, I did, anyway. My romantic interests in no way reflect my mental health, and fuck you for assuming it does."

Tony Stark chuckled as he leaned back against the bar countertop, swirling his drink slowly. Banner looked as though he didn't know whether to argue or laugh, and his mouth hung open as he pushed his glasses up his nose.

"I'd like to apologize for anything you might have heard—"

"You don't talk to me." Now her voice shook. She looked at him and she saw Nolan. She saw her brother in the man's perfect physique, in his combed blond hair, in his square jaw. "My name's Max Wright… I'm Nolan Wright's sister."

She waited for a flicker of recognition, for something in his chiseled face to register that he knew who Nolan was at the very least—nothing.

"Nolan Wright?" Repeating the name didn't make it any better. Her eyes started to water, but she blinked away her anger. "You interviewed him personally two years ago… He worked at your stupid base in Brooklyn as a weapons engineer. You were the whole reason he was in the city when the aliens came."

"I'm sorry. I work with a lot of people—"

"Well, good for you!" A tear slipped out, and she ignored it, letting it roll down her cheek and over her chin. "I'm so glad he made such an impact on you… You, the great Captain America. You who he wouldn't shut up about. You were the reason he came here."

And you're the reason he's dead. She bit her tongue to keep from saying it, because as much as she wished it was true, she knew it wasn't. But it felt damn good telling him off anyway.

"Again, I'm sorry. I'm sure I'd remember him if I saw him. How's he doing?"

"Well, he's dead, so… probably fine?" The Captain's arms fell to his sides, and she cut him off before he could say anything further. "They executed him on the day of the invasion. I mean, that's the right word, right? When it's a point-blank shot to the face… Execution?"

She looked at all three men, and only Tony nodded, tipping his drink back after and chugging down half of it.

"I'm very sorry for your loss—"

"Fuck your apologies, actually."

"Max?" She turned to find Loki in the doorway, leaning against it with his arms folded. Sue wasn't with him, but she could hear some chatter down the hall over the sound of her heart pounding in her ears. She gave him a quick nod, and then turned back to the Captain.

"Here's just a general fuck you from all of Manhattan for the last month and a half. How about that?"

Her mouth was dry—so very dry. Trying to swallow down her emotion, she marched out of the room, and once she was through the doorway, she heard Loki add one final remark.

"Always a pleasure, gentlemen."

Her legs gave out less than ten feet down the hall, just before the bend, and she leaned back against a window, hands on her thighs and head bowed.

"Oh my god…" She looked up as Loki's footsteps grew louder, and he grinned at her. "I just yelled at Captain America… I just… Oh my god."

"As much as I enjoyed watching," he mused, his hand curving around her neck, "might I ask why it happened in the first place?"

She closed her eyes, focusing only on his cool palm nestled beneath her hair and against her skin. After a few calming breaths, she looked up at him, cheeks flushed and eyes a little on the red side.

"I just… I overheard them say I was probably a nutcase if I was dating you, and then I just… I don't know what happened." She shook her head, straightening up completely, yet unable to meet his gaze. "I guess I needed to yell at someone, and they were an easy target."

Embarrassment and shame crept up quickly, taking a seat next to her guilt, and now she definitely knew she wanted to throw up.

"Well, no matter." He stroked her neck soothingly. "I love watching your anger directed at someone other than me… Very thrilling, my sweet."

She gave a weak chuckle as he pressed a kiss to the side of her head, and then pulled her down the hall.

"Come along. I've found a few people who will bring a real smile to that downtrodden face of yours."

"I'm not downtrodden," she insisted, elbowing him in the ribs as hard as she could. He exhaled sharply, dragging her to his side and wrapping his arm around her shoulders. She knew the hit hurt her more than it hurt him. "Ouch."

"That was your own doing. You can't complain," he said with a grin. She was just about to wrap her arms around his midsection when duo of familiar voices screeched her name from the upcoming foyer. It was hard not to light up as two little blurs raced toward her, calling her name and holding cards and flowers in each hand.

"Max! Max!"

"Hi!" She disentangled herself from Loki's grip and dropped to her knees, wrapping both Franklin and Valeria into a giant hug. Pain seared through her abdomen, from her ribs and arms, but it was easy to ignore in the moment. Her nose, on the other hand, was harder to forget about, and she tipped her head back to keep two small faces from damaging the slowly healing cartilage.

"I'm sorry, Max." Franklin seemed close to tears when he pulled away, his eyes red and his nose a little runny, and she accepted the drooping daffodil and homemade card with a smile.

"It's not your fault," she told him as she tucked the gifts under her arm and kissed his cheek. "Really. You were so brave that day."

He nodded, head down, and wiped under his nose. Max turned her attention to Valeria who had a sunflower for her, its heavy head weighing it down. Her card was neater than her brothers, with tight, tiny scrawl Max had grown accustomed to over the weeks of watching both kids do homework. As Max complimented Valeria's dress, examining all the intricate needlework that the girl admitted to having added herself, she wished they had made an appearance last week: they would have definitely brightened up the mood.

"Max?"

Sue's voice cut through the reunion gently, and Max stood, almost having forgotten that the woman might be there. Like Loki, Sue looked physically untouched after the battle, though there was no telling what the loss of her home had done to her mental state. Dressed in yoga pants rolled to her knees and a loose t-shirt, she looked more average than ever before. A large reusable cloth bag hung from each hand.

"I bought you some new clothes," she said, setting the bags down in front of Max. "Figured you could… have some for your own instead of borrowing mine this time."

"Thank you…" She tucked some hair behind her ear, smiling. "You didn't have to do that—"

Sue's hug hurt a little worse than the ones she got from the kids, but Max couldn't bring herself to shy away from it. The woman trembled, and Max almost felt like she was the one holding them both up.

"I don't know how to thank you for what you did." Sue's whispered words tickled her ear, and she shut her eyes, nodding. "You saved their lives."

She chuckled weakly, her midsection starting to throb. Sue's shampoo made her stomach loop over and over a few times, and she pulled back on the off-chance that she might finally throw up. "Well, if they hadn't snuck out, we all would have been in the tower. So, really, they saved me."

"You didn't have to stay with them after."

"Of course I did." Who would have left two kids on their own in the middle of a war? She wasn't heartless—did Sue think she was? "It never once crossed my mind to just walk away from them. I wouldn't have jumped out of the tower just to yell at them."

"She did though." Franklin didn't sound sullen about it, but he needed to work on his timing for jokes. "She yelled at me a lot."

"Well, at the time you deserved it." She stuck her tongue out at him when he did the same, and Sue hugged her again.

"If there's anything you ever need… anything… You tell me."

"It's totally fine. I… Okay," she acquiesced. She didn't need anything from Sue. She didn't need praise from anyone—anyone with a heart would have done what she did. Still, Sue seemed set on finding a way to pay her back, and maybe she would let the woman treat her to a spa day sometime: she could definitely use a massage.

"Now, how are you feeling?" Sue took a step back to appraise her, eyes wandering up and down her body. "You look terrible."

"Thanks," she said with a laugh, adjusting her gifts to that she could hold them in one hand. "This is better than it was."

"Yeah, Loki said you were in really rough shape." She heard him shift behind her. "We wanted to visit earlier, but he said you needed the downtime…"

Her eyebrows shot up. "He said what?"

"I thought too many visitors at once would be overwhelming," Loki said, and Sue pressed her lips together. She felt his hand on her shoulder, but she didn't look back at him. "Today is the first day you've been well enough to see people."

Max bit the inside of her cheek. Vomit. It was coming. Sometime soon, it was going to spew out of her mouth, and she took a few deep breaths.

"Doesn't matter…" She shook her head and smiled for Sue. "I'm out of there now."

"I want to hear all about the suite!"

Her hand went to her stomach. "Sure. I just… I'm going to unpack first."

"Of course." Sue ushered Franklin and Valeria out of the way as Max promised to come see them as soon as she was settled. A small part of her was pretty excited to root through the bags of clothes Sue had purchased for her, but the much larger part wanted to find a bathroom to loiter around until the queasiness finally passed.

She and Loki stepped into the elevators on the other side of the bright foyer, and she leaned against the railing as the box shot upward. This elevator had window paneling along the back, from which she was able to see a blurred view of the nearby buildings.

She exhaled softly, and then turned her attention back to Loki. "Why didn't you let them visit?"

"Do not turn it into some absurd conspiracy, Max." She watched him peer into the bags briefly before glancing back at her. "You haven't been well. You are physically sick almost every day… I kept visitors at bay because I knew you wished to see them when you were recovered."

Her eyes narrowed and mouth tightened, but she found she had nothing to say to that. There he was, being a good guy again, and she was annoyed.

"Are you angry with me for it?"

"No," she said tersely. "It's fine. I see your point."

"But you are angry with me."

"No, I'm not." The doors slid open, and she stepped out into yet another foyer. Two different hallways shot out to either side of the building, and it was like every floor looked better than the last. This one had an ethereal vibe to it: lots of windows to see the clear blue Manhattan sky, golds and yellows and silvers and beiges in the colour scheme on the paneling, floorboards, and flower arrangements on little wooden tables. The temperature was perfect.

"Our room is this way," Loki directed, herding her toward the hall on the right. However, before they could get too far, she heard Thor's booming voice greeting them from the other direction.

"It is good to see the both of you!" he exclaimed, strolling toward the foyer in a pair of baggy athletic shorts and a black t-shirt. His blond locks were tied back, and he was clean-shaven for the first time since they had met. Max quickly decided he looked better without the scruff.

He clapped Loki on the shoulder—hard—and leaned down to press a kiss to her cheek, which made her stiffen now just as it did the last time he did it.

"How do you feel?" He studied her all over, though it didn't feel like a leer. "You look better."

"Thanks." She hugged her flowers and cards to her chest. "I feel better."

"Excellent." He looked over his shoulder briefly, and then stepped aside to reveal a petite brunette in a flannel button-up and a pair of short-shorts. She approached slowly, feet bare and hair swept back like Thor's. "Do you remember my Jane?"

"Jane…" The word was comfortable on her lips, bringing a warm sense of peace to her as she watched the woman approach. She remembered a Jane—on the street, on the stretcher, in the hospital queue. "Yes… Hi."

"Glad to see you're doing better," the woman said once she stopped by Thor's side. Max quickly grasped her small hand when she extended it, and they smiled at one another, though both smiles were somewhat hesitant.

"Thank you so much for… for everything you did." When she looked to Loki, she found she was disappointed in the cold expression he had for both Jane and Thor. Clearing her throat, she turned back to them. "I don't know if I said it then, but—"

"A couple of times," Jane told her, her eyes darting between Max and Loki. "Pretty huge coincidence for the two of us to… meet like that."

She gestured gingerly between Loki and Thor, her cheeks colouring when Thor's great laugh echoed through the foyer.

Max nodded, grinning now. "Who'da thunk, huh?"

Loki sighed noisily behind her, and she felt a nauseous surge in response. Gripping the flowers tightly, Max pointed down the hall behind her.

"Sorry, I just… Excuse me."

Darting around Loki, she jogged down the hall to the first door that opened to a bedroom, and then staggered into an impressive en-suite bathroom. Loki found her moments later, stooped over the toilet as she held her hair back. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him pick up the discarded flowers and cards before setting them between the double sinks.

"I knew we should not have removed you from the healer's care—"

"No, it's fine," she insisted between bouts of sickness. "My pain meds are really hard on my stomach… The doctor… The doctor said this is a totally plausible side-effect."

She doubled over again, retching into the porcelain toilet bowl. Throwing up was awful for her aches and pains, and when she was finally finished, she leaned back against the wall, dragging some toilet paper with her.

"Are you sure this is caused by the medication?" Loki flushed the evidence away, nose slightly wrinkled, and then sat down beside her. Tissue balled in her hand, she gave her mouth a quick wipe and tossed it into the swirling water. A thin sheen of sweat dotted her forehead, and she nodded, setting her head on his shoulder.

"For now, that's all it is."

Max was angry with him, and Loki couldn't figure out why. Oh yes, she pretended she wasn't, but he was better at reading her than she gave him credit for. Her temper was short with him, and it had been for a number of days. It would stay intact for a little while, and then snap out of nowhere. Once she realized she was being too snippy with him, she pulled her wrath back in, and Loki merely had to wait for it to rear its ugly head once more.

He let her be angry. She was in pain and blatantly upset about staying in the Avengers Tower instead of going home, and he couldn't blame her for that. He couldn't hold her accountable for her anger, but he certainly wished she would direct it elsewhere. After all, he was angry too. Thor informed him that there was a room prepared for Max and him a few days before she was ready to leave, and should he not take Stark's generous offer, S.H.I.E.L.D. would forcibly remove Max and bring her there themselves. They still showed some interest in her recovery, apparently, and preferred to keep her out of the public eye until she proved useful.

Threats were not something he took lightly, nor were they forgotten. With some strange illness continuing to plague her, Loki thought it best to spare her the drama that might come with a skirmish between himself and that secret organization. He had no intention of letting them use her—or, for that matter, him—and he made that quite plain to Thor when they spoke privately. The man had agreed to his sentiments, and expressed a dislike for the renewed interest the agency took in Jane Foster's research.

So, despite his frustration with the reasons for bringing her to the new tower, Loki knew that it would best for her—for now. It would be a safe place for her to heal completely. She would have all the privacy she wanted, a better security system than any other building in the city, and plenty of vital necessities at her fingertips. Stark spared no expense in hosting the heroes, and all the eateries were furnished with the best food money could buy (for the time being, what with the markets in shambles). There was a floor with a swimming pool and an indoor hot spring, and plenty of other activities to distract her.

This arrangement was temporary. He told her that, but she was still angry with him—deep down, well beneath the surface. Once she had recovered from her bout of illness, they joined Sue and her family for a midday meal. Reed and Ben remained absent, but they were due to return within the hour. Johnny, on the other hand, was genuinely pleased to see Max again, and doted on her like she was some helpless newborn. Although he was happy to be in pleasant company once more, Loki kept his conversation minimal, focusing entirely on her wellbeing.

He wished she would have let him call for a healer. It wasn't normal for her to be so physically ill this often, and yet she brushed it off like it was nothing. Encouraging her ire wasn't something he wished to do, so he let it go, but the next time she fell ill, he intended to act on it.

When the food was gone and Max's energy noticeably drained, Loki carefully extracted her from the group and took her to bed. Her body was healing well enough, but she needed to give it more time. Humans could withstand much, given their inherent physical limitations, but their recovery was excruciatingly slow. She gave no protest when he insisted she sleep for the rest of the afternoon, and once he set her into their new, quite large bed, she was lost to the world within moments.

Loki sat with her for some time, her head on his lap and his hand on her stomach. Eyes closed, he listened to her breathing, listened to the thoughts poking around in his head. He listened to the whole realm, until one sound pierced the perfection.

"Brother?"

He held a finger to his lips before slowly opening his eyes, glowering at Thor in the doorway. As delicately as he could manage, Loki removed himself from Max's slumbering form. The sun was starting to get lower in the sky now, though it would reign supreme for another few hours before retiring for the night. He gave Thor no chance to step into his new chambers, but instead shut the door behind him.

"What?"

"There's been a meeting called for all to attend." They started walking, though Loki initially intended to follow him to the end of the hallway before leaving him. "It would be wise for you both to heed the call."

"She needs to sleep."

"Then you should attend for both your sakes."

Loki watched as Thor strolled across the foyer and pressed a thick finger to the elevator button. He moved about so freely in this realm these days: never once did he struggle, and back when he did, it couldn't have been for long. Loki's stomach knotted at the thought.

"And who declares such a meeting?"

Thor glanced back at him, and it was clear that he was in no mood for jests this evening. "Who else?"

If his eyes could roll out of his skull, they would have. Loki had no intention of being summoned by S.H.I.E.L.D. like some dog to its master. However, the new world order was starting to take shape, and it appeared that the organization—and its heroes—were emerging unscathed and strong from battle. It would be in his best interests, therefore, to at least sit in on their deliberations.

So, with his hands clasped behind his back, Loki joined Thor in the elevator.

"I see yours isn't in attendance either."

The man was silent for a long moment, his eyes on the flashing numbers over the elevator. Finally, Thor sighed. "I withheld her invitation."

"Ah…" He grinned under Thor's gaze. "Very sneaky of you, brother."

It was Thor's turn to smirk, and Loki's hands turned to fists.

"Do you trust them?" He nodded out to the general populace of the tower. He knew Thor had little trust in him, but he was curious as to his loyalties for the rest of them—for that pesky little agency.

"Some, yes." Thor's eyes shot up to the corners of their little box. "I've learned that most places in this tower have ears. Be mindful of that."

"I have nothing to fear of these people."

"Perhaps not." Thor paused when the elevator finally stopped. "You can leave them and this realm behind whenever you desire to now… Others are less fortunate."

"Is that a threat?"

"A warning," Thor insisted, rounding on him and placing a hand on Loki's shoulder. "Because we both stand to lose the same thing. Keep your tongue and your temper in check."

"Speak for yourself," he hissed. Nudging Thor's hand off his shoulder, he stepped around the man and stalked out into the hall, only to slow when he realized he had no idea where they were headed. This floor was similar to most others: a round room around the elevators, from which various corridors shot off.

"This way."

Teeth gritted, he fell in line behind Thor as if nothing had changed at all.

Mercifully enough, their silent march was cut short as a familiar voice bounced off the walls. "My favourite gods!"

Johnny jogged after them, munching away on a fluffy baked good, which oozed red jelly, and slapped Loki on the back once he was near enough.

"Are we all excited for the most thrilling meeting of the twenty-first century?" He took an obnoxiously large bite of his treat, smacking his lips together as he chewed.

"And what, pray, will be so interesting about it?"

"Didn't you hear?" Loki exchanged a quick look with Thor, who appeared equally curious as to Johnny Storm's excitement. The man slipped ahead of them and turned, walking backward down the hall as he continued to eat. "Nick Fury's dead… We get to meet the S.H.I.E.L.D.'s new king shit."

"Did you know of this?"

Loki arched an eyebrow, rolling his eyes again at Thor's demand. "How would I know about this?"

"Gossip travels fast in the Avengers Tower, kiddies," Johnny said. He then popped the last of his snack into his mouth, wiping his hands on his pants. "Better get ready for a corporate shake-up. I think it'll be that Hill woman, but Sue's money's on Stark and the Cap collectively, which I told her is cheating... Care to place any bets?"

AUTHOR'S NOTES:

I'm so thrilled that the pregnancy plotline was tentatively well-received by a lot of my reviewers. I'm going to do my best with it, but I'm sure not everyone will be happy with it in the end. BUT. You can't make everyone happy. I think where a lot of pregnancy/baby plots fall short is that once the woman is said to be pregnant, her whole plot and storyline is BABY, BABY, BABY. Every scene is about baby. Her motives and her emotions and her everything in the world just goes away. It's like we lose a character in some cases. Everything everywhere is about baby, and that's not real life. Women have nine months of being pregnant, and while having a person growing in you is kind of a huge deal, it doesn't encompass one's entire life. That, I suppose, is one big thing I'm going to try to avoid. Max is still Max, just with a boatload of new stress to muddle through.

Now, I'm sure you all noticed, but I didn't get an update out last week. My wrists were a mess, and I was busy with other things. Big thing though was the wrist pain. I just couldn't do it. Therefore, while I'm still going to try to get an update out per week, it might stretch to a week and a half if things with my health aren't great. My tumblr has updated posted regularly about what the situation is like with the update, so you can always check there if you're curious. I don't appreciate being harassed, however. I love doing this, but sometimes RL gets in the way.

Also, it hurt my sooooul to have Max yell at Steve like that, because he's literally the nicest person on the planet. However, she's got a lot of emotions that need to come out, and she's been suppressing them for way too long. Unfortunately, they just seem to come out at the wrong person. Poor guy. I just watched The Winter Soldier, and I left with all these Cap feels, and ugh.

Anyway! Off to do revisions for my novella series, which is coming along nicely. Hope you enjoyed, love you allllll, and hopefully I'll be seeing you next week!