~
A/N:
This, my lovely readers, is the chapter I originally wanted to have out to you by Christmas,
but because of [insert flamboyant, job-related excuses here] I sadly wasn't able to.
I truly would love to know what you think about this one.

~
With progress comes problems
With wisdom comes age
With lessons come learning
And pleasure comes with pain

You can only have the sunshine after the rain
~

Jane looped the strap of the sloshing canteen over her shoulder.

She did not know how long Loki was going to be gone or who was going to show up next but her depleting supply of water was enough to help her think rationally. The urging of the brightening sky helped too.

Her muscles hated her for every move she made as she rose uneasily. The bulky rocks she leaned on provided little assistance when her weight alone was what ailed her. She swore her blood matched them in density.

With a slight limp she made it out into the dim light of the new day and took a moment to eye the land rolling out from below her like a rippled red carpet. It was blank and empty, and void of threat aside from the dirt itself for as far as she could see.

She started her ascent only after she checked a second, thorough time.

Her muscles grew somewhat looser as she moved but the joints of her knees felt as if sandpaper lie between them during each of her slow steps. She distracted herself with theorems and lighter memories; Darcy's jabs and Erik's warm smiles, spending hours out on the roof of her old research lab gazing at the clear sky, her hands wrapped around a warm mug of coffee… and she never ever imagined she could miss that old, raggedy van so much.

A curse would only slip from her lips when her foot would land wrong every so often and cause the cramping pain in her calves to flair. It was something she took a small amount of pride in. Loki had wanted her to show more control right? Baby steps.

She made it to the lowest level of snow and decided it would have to do. While it was already partially soppy and mixing with the dirt, she had no way of melting it now that her container was nothing more than cold steel. That, and she simply could not convince herself to travel any farther up.

Jane's fingers were turning red and going numb by the time she got enough slush into the small opening to be worth the climb.

The walk back down the mountain was a blessing in a place where few existed. Her feet half strode, half slid down the soft dirt inclines and she smiled down at the welcomed lack of exertion on her part. She still had to use a well-placed boulder or a high pile of dirt to catch herself here and there but even with her soreness, she was getting much better at this.

She took the final step down onto the ledge of the cave and looked out instead of in. It was a mistake from the beginning.

With her replenished water supply at her left hip and the sharp dagger at her right, all she would have to do was last long enough to get to Thor... Right? No, something about it was off. The thought struck her wrong, pressing hard against her lungs as she remembered Loki's words and began to wonder what Thor's true reasons for being on Svartalfheim were. His father had a way of getting under his skin. It showed so clearly in his actions since his return; they way he'd spoken to her through the prison glass... They could have been standing a million miles apart.

But what did she expect, honestly? She had only known the golden haired god for two days. More than enough time to become enamored with him, just as most mortal girls did – Darcy included. But not enough time for her to put her life in his hands. Not after what happened the first time. Not after this.

She was just about to turn around when a soft scratching sound drew her attention down to the base of the cliffs.

The green of his tunic instantly identified the source, though now he was edged in gold as well.

Loki struggled half way up the pathway; his usually firm footing slipping through the sand in a way that was unsettling. Even with her human eyes, she could make out the pain that flashed across his features with each of his movements.

She found it hard to watch, and before she could question why, she was lowering herself down from the steep ledge.

"Loki?" She questioned him as she neared, reaching out to steady him.

The dangerous look he gave her stopped her short from offering any assistance. Her hands fell back to her sides as he stopped before her on the soft slope, her height on the rock allowing her eyes to be level with his.

He wore dirtied armor from his head to his shins. She had seen him in it before, she remembered it much too clearly, but never in person.

Sweat beaded along his forehead just beneath the curve of his helmet, mixing with the dirt that stuck there and giving him a sickly looking sheen. Small dashes of blood marked the stark white skin of his face. They came from no cuts and she realized it was not his own. His eyes were withdrawn; dark and tired in a way that looked incompatible upon the face of a god. Somehow they still held a sweltering glare, but even she knew it was not meant entirely for her.

Under it, her heart weighed with pity for him instead of fear over what exactly had caused the marks and mood. It melted any anger she felt toward him. The latter was somehow scarier.

A thousand questions weighed heavy on her tongue but she kept them locked behind her lips. Words now would without a doubt lead to much harsher ones judging by the tenacity that radiated straight through protective steel.

Instead, she held his gaze with gentle resolve and moved slowly to lift the horned helmet from his temple. Its heavy weight in her hands surprised her. Before she could examine it closer, it's weight subsided as it disintegrated between her palms and vanished from view, leaving her arms awkwardly held in the air at each side of his head.

She retaliated by reached down to take his hand in place of it, holding it lightly in her own as she turned to help him back to the protection of the cave. Her mind screamed at her for crossing clear cut boundaries but she muffled it on the stable grounds that he had done so first, after all.

When he did not budge, she looked back to meet a blazon of tender insecurity just as it passed across his eyes. She'd never seen him so clearly. It was far from the crueler counterpart she expected and it shook her so violently that she was sure that its affliction alone would've floored her where she stood had she filled any other role but captive. She couldn't help but wonder if anyone had ever reached out to him before.

"Come on," she pressed softly, his reaction allowing her nature to overtake her intellect, tipping her head in the direction of the mountain. "Let's get you inside."

And with a gentle tug on his hand, he trailed behind her reverent lead.

Loki had never felt so many different forms of pain at once, coming in from all sides like an enclosing tomb of jagged splinters.

Why did Thor have to make everything seem so easy? As if the deep, gaping scars he left upon each dominion he graced could be tended to with nothing more than a few stitches of promised redemption. Loki was practiced in the art of healing, sure, but he was no miracle worker.

Then there was the reminder of their mother's death. Of course its bitter bite had stood out the clearest, squeezing his heart with the tight fisted agony that had refused to let up since he'd seen her draped in red along the floor.

It was the reason he had left his own brother in the same position. When he was not getting in the way of things he was being entirely neglectful and Loki could deal with neither at this point.

The increasingly raw throbbing from the gash just beneath his right shoulder blade was not helping either.

Uncoiling his muscles had felt fantastic. It had been far too long since he had put his daggers to their proper use and even so, he had very nearly had a perfect run. Amidst battle it was nothing; a hornet's final, desperate sting. And even if he could reach it with his magic, he wanted to face Malekith on his own terms and it was certainly not in this state.

So when the world stilled and the encounter came to a most unprecedented close, he was left to trudge back through the dirt carrying only a few stolen articles of interest and the painful consequence.

He found no refuge.

Instead, her small hand so tenderly wrapping around his own made his previous troubles out to be child's play in comparison; the maddening way it both fanned and doused the cindering coals within his chest.

Loki slumped down upon the boulder with a face-contorting wince.

Jane could tell something was very wrong by the way he curled forward, resting one hand on his knee and the other jutting out behind him to press against his right hip as he rode out the wave of pain. His breaths were labored.

She took a step back to search above where his hand lie, making out the faint darkening of the green fabric that ran down his side. It was hidden mostly by the black and gold inset of his chest plate but it only took her a minute to find the small slit where his armor had failed him.

And just like that, she couldn't wait any longer.

"Are you alright?" Jane asked him carefully, removing her jacket and dropping it unceremoniously on the ground.

His mouth opened as he eyed her actions with unconcealed skepticism for a moment before he actually spoke.

"I have faced much worse."

"What did you face this time?" She could hear the small rise of angst come from her and knew he could too.

He ignored it, moving his hand so that both rested on his knees.

"What were you doing beyond the cave?" He breathed toward the ground, doing what he could to straighten.

"I was getting more water," she replied, fighting a cringe as she watched his struggle. "It's a good thing I did because you're going to need it."

The mangle of his brow up at her questioned her claim and her stability all at once.

"You are hurt," She took a defiant step toward him but soothed with her tone. "And I'd rather there be no magic involved at all if we're being targeted like you say. Just to be safe…" her eyes flicked to his back, "unless your injury is even worse than it looks."

An exasperated chuckle cracked from his lips. He winced again as it shook him.

"Now you are interested in keeping our location secret? Why the sudden change of heart?"

Her brown eyes narrowed at the frustrating amount of bemusement that coated his features.

"I'm just trying to help."

A mask of darkness slipped back onto his features in the stretching silence. Her heart thrummed with heart-rending curiosity more than any actual fear.

"If you keep attempting to repair the things I break, you might just make this too easy for me."

The words that once would have raised goose bumps along her skin turned up the corners of her lips instead. She took a moment to dramatically search every dark crevice of the cave with straining eyes.

"Well, Thor is nowhere in sight…" She knelt down at his side and watched the ghost of a smile disappear from his lips. "And someone has to."

His eyes steadily hardened over hers.

"What scheme is this?" The accusation was fast and sharp; instinct.

Jane shook her head sadly at him. She could read the centuries worth of failed trust so easily between the lines on his guarded face.

"No schemes. Just returning the favor." Her words did nothing to sway it. "It would be much easier for me to do so if you would remove your armor." And not just that he wore over his chest.

He cocked his head minutely as he considered her request. The light refused to return to his eyes.

"Had you been there, you would not be so hospitable toward me."

The sudden overcast of his tone caught her somewhat off guard, but not enough to hide that this was just another one of his games. A defense mechanism. One that was meant to make her fingers clench and her heart beat just a little faster in her chest.

It only proved even the slightest bit effective when he reached down to begin unbinding the leather straps at his side.

She adjusted into a crouch, watching his fingers go to work with practiced haste.

"I'm not sure who I would've rooted for. I'll give you that."

A wild gleam filled his eyes as they turned on her; the way they laughed back at her instantly giving at least one of his opponents away.

"The defeated party, no doubt."

She had heard his words, but the sight of his back as the metal plate fell away from it garnered every ounce of her attention. The dark leather over his right shoulder had been ripped clean through, the bottom hem draping toward the ground like the solemn pages of a well-weathered book. She could see nothing but red beneath it.

"Thor did not do this to you," the affirmation slipped from her lips as she took a half-absent step to get a better look. With the tenderness of a feather's graze, she shifted the hanging material down just enough to get sight of what lie beneath.

"Are you not left wondering what I did to him?"

The nonchalance of his question was meant to raise the small hairs along her neckline but she was far too busy gaping at the dark stain that drenched the material over his lower back.

"Loki, this is bad."

He tensed beneath her touch at the concerned sound of his name.

"How so?"

The question was low and honest. He truly had no idea.

"It's deep. Judging by the fact that you're still upright, your lung is intact, but I don't see how." Her brow cinched with a thought. "And to my knowledge, you are the only Asgardian here that wields a dagger…"

Her fingertips slid across the warm leather of his trench coat as he eased it back off his shoulders. It fell to the ground across the toes of her boots. Her eyes stayed fixed on his gaping wound.

"Ever observant, are we not?" Loki spoke harshly through the hiss of pain the small action pulled from him.

"Enough to know it was not one of yours." She blinked, ignoring the jab and rising to her feet with resolve. "I need to stop the bleeding."

"Then you will need this."

Loki flicked his left wrist and Jane watched in awe as a dagger shot out from his bracer and into his grip. It was not like the one he'd given her; harsher. A scorched black handle running smoothly into a wickedly curved blade. If Jane had still wondered just exactly who he'd come across out there, the weapon would have made it clear enough.

She slid her fingers around its rough texture when he held the handle out to her. It was still warm from its previous location against his skin. Her eyes rose to question him.

"It is iron and will hold heat much more effectively than steel."

The calm claim slapped her.

"You want me to…"

"Cauterize it. Yes." He nodded at her gravely. "If I am to heal quickly enough, it is what needs to be done. If you close the wound, I can take care of the rest."

Jane realized she was shaking her head.

"I… I don't know if I can…"

His grim gaze stopped both her words and motion.

"You have to."

His hand rose to hover just above his knee and she watched the cave around her glow brighter in the fire's growing light. There was no escaping this.

"You should lie down on your stomach until it gets hot enough," she instructed as she moved away to crouch beside the fire and pierce it with the blade. "At least we'll have gravity on our side."

She could hear him shuffling behind her.

"And you should not hold that with your bare hands for too long," he returned flatly.

Though Jane knew it was just his way of staying ahead, it stunned her for a moment. She looked over her shoulder to find him struggling to spread his long coat across the floor and almost grinned. She set the dagger on the ground and took it from him, flattening it out in front of his feet with the sideways slide her palms.

Pardoning brown eyes rose to meet forged stoic emerald.

"Thank you," she offered with a soft smile before moving the clear the way for him.

For a long moment he stilled, a statue seated upon rock, and searched her face, his brow not fully deciding whether to furrow or stray. The eyes beneath it were hesitant.

"Do you need help?" She asked, breaking the heavy silence and his reverie.

"No," he eased cautiously onto his knees and inched his tall form forward across the dark material. "You've done quite enough already."

Jane didn't know quite how to take his words – not that she usually did, but the lack of bleakness behind them could only help prove them to be honest. She moved over to kneel near his waist.

"Push yourself up a little so I can lift your shirt," her fingers reached for the bottom hem mid-instruction. "If I caught it on fire, I wouldn't know whether to laugh or sympathize with you."

"Well now," he moved to oblige, pressing his palms against the floor and just barely lifting his torso. She could see in the lean, twitching muscle of his shoulders that he struggled, but it was not enough to bring down his cocked eyebrow. He spoke through clenched teeth. "If you wanted me to take my shirt off, you merely had to ask."

Her cheeks flushed. She blamed the Aether.

"You are in no position to mock," She scolded lightly until she lifted his shirt and got the full view of his assaulted skin. She shivered instead. Her hand automatically reached for the canteen at her hip. "Let me get this over with before I change my mind."

"It seems you already ha…"

Loki's words were swallowed by an agonizing hiss as Jane poured the still cold water around the cut. She wrapped the waist of her shirt around her fingers, doing what she could to clean the scarlet from his skin.

"I'm sorry," she breathed moving quickly to grab her jacket and wrapping it around the handle of the searing dagger. Its uncomfortable heat still managed to reach her palm. She pulled its glowing orange blade from the flames and turned to look down at him.

His head turned toward her, his hands falling to brace himself at either side. His eyes never left her face.

She could only imagine the look she wore upon it.

"This is going to hurt," she whispered, slowly reaching out to him with her free hand.

It was his turn to surprise her by taking it after only a heartbeat's worth of hesitation. His hand was cool and firm around her clammy fingers. They both trembled slightly.

"One…two…"

Jane pressed the red hot blade against the slick gash and watched as every muscle in his body tensed in a warrior's effort to keep still. His grip on her hand grew painful but she did not attempt to pull away. His other hand crumpled the jacket beneath it into an iron fist. He blurred before her eyes. Pure agony shone from his face; his eyes locked tight behind straining lids and his jaw clenching in a way that made her own teeth ache. It had nothing on the way it clawed at her heart. He turned his head straight, pressed his forehead hard against the ground, and breathed in hiss after hiss through his teeth.

A few seconds felt like an eternity, but when she lifted the iron from his skin, she was more than glad that one treatment had been effective, closing the wound entirely under darkened skin. It stood out in startling contrast against the rest of him. She quickly poured more cool water over it and watched as his form relaxed against the floor.

Jane picked the dagger back up and threw it across the cave. The heavy 'thung' of iron bouncing from the wall and landing on the dirt shook through the air but Loki lay unmoving at the sound.

For a long time, she sat and watched the steadying rise and fall of his shoulders as he caught his breath. She followed his lead. When seconds drew on into minutes, she laid out on her side beside him to search his downturned face.

"Loki?" She whispered.

His hand flexed in hers. For a long while he was still.

When he finally turned his head in her direction, his eyes drew open with a warmness about them that made her glad she was already lying upon the ground. A lone tear was freed and fell to leather. A breath rattled from him.

"Thank you, Jane."

The whispered words slid her eyes closed in encompassing relief.

Only then did she realize that she cried too.

Epigraph: Needle In The Dark - Passenger