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It happened seconds too quickly for Loki to realize that he had intended to do anything at all.
One moment, Thor had been leaned against the hull of the Statesman, chatting casually with the Valkyrie as the two slid a heavy metal panel over the door to one of the back storerooms.
Hours before, a small oxygen leak had been discovered at the corner of the room; harmless, at first, but left alone for too long, it could quickly become a danger to all on board, particularly those lodging near the room.
And, after briefly deliberating the value of simply attempting to patch the leak and keeping the room available for use, Thor had decided to go with the safer option and close the room off entirely.
Which brought them to their current predicament, Thor and Val sharing the weight of the metal panel and preparing to seal it into place--
Only for a loud groaning to come from the storeroom, followed by the unmistakable sound of metal grinding on metal.
Loki realized what was happening seconds before Thor did, if his brother’s still hesitant expression was anything to go by, his hands outstretched as he took a step closer to the room.
“Thor!” Loki snapped, and, before he had even registered the urge to do so, sprung forward, his shoulder colliding roughly with Thor’s side with just enough surprise on his side to effectively knock his brother off of his feet.
Thrown slightly off balance, Loki was sent tumbling into the storeroom, barely able to catch his footing before he fell to the ground, as well.
He turned on one heel, then, eyes wide as he prepared to spring back out of the room and into the hallway--
Too late, it seemed.
Distantly, there was the sound of more metal grinding, as if the ship itself were being slowly torn apart, before the wall before him collapsed, effectively pinching the metal panel into place and shrouding the room in sudden darkness.
Loki watched in something like distant fascination as a large chunk of metal from the wall above the door twisted violently, before breaking off and, before he could so much as blink in response, swung down toward him--
---
“--ki!”
Loki groaned, pinching his face into a small frown before he forced his eyes open.
Immediately, the world spun, and Loki slammed his eyes shut again, breathing harshly through his nose as he slowly became more aware of his surroundings.
He was on the floor, that much was obvious. The air around him was cold, chilled past what was ordinary for the already chilly interior of the Statesman.
So cold, in fact, that Loki’s next inhale prickled almost painfully, as if his lungs were filled with pins and needles.
Or, more accurately, as if he was not quite drawing in enough air.
“Loki!”
Loki started at the cry, and grimaced slightly as the movement tugged on the already sore muscles of his neck.
“I--” he began, only to frown at how small and whispered his voice came out.
He coughed slightly and, with some effort, pulled his hand up to rub at his chest before attempting again, “I’m here.”
From somewhere to his left came the sound of a relieved exhale and, deciding that he’d had enough of not being able to see what was going on, Loki pried his eyes open, swallowing past the sudden swimming of his head, and peered warily about his surroundings.
Which, as it turned out, offered very little variance to what he had been privy to seeing with his eyes still closed.
The room he was still sprawled on the floor of was dark enough that he could hardly see more than a few feet in front of him.
Not that the space he could see yielded much.
His pulse picking up speed, now, Loki fought to keep his breaths under control, and attempted to raise himself to his elbows on shaking arms.
Only to fall back with a grunt not a moment later, a sharp pain lacing through his head and right side, directly below his ribs.
Right then, he thought with little humor. Any movement for now is out.
“Loki?” the voice from the left side of the room called, and Loki nearly startled again at the sound of it, already having somewhat forgotten that the speaker was there.
“Are you alright?”
With a bit more focus (a feat that turned out to be far more difficult than it should have been), Loki was able to identify the voice as belonging to the Valkyrie.
And, with a pained grunt, he managed to roll himself onto his side to face where her voice was coming from.
“Where’s Thor?” he questioned, the force of the call leaving him slightly winded, to his mild surprise.
There was a pause, and Loki felt his blood chill slightly at the silence, before Val called back, “He’s here!”
“Is he alright?” Loki demanded, the image of Thor nearly being crushed by the collapsing metal of the door rising to the forefront of his mind before he could quite stop it.
“He’s--” the Valkyrie paused again, and Loki could just make out the sound of her conversing lowly with someone else, before she continued, “He’s alright. Just out cold. His head hit the ground when you--when he fell.”
Relieved, Loki allowed his head to fall back to rest against the cool floor below, ignoring the slight twist of guilt within his gut at having been the one to have knocked Thor unconscious.
Well, he mentally reasoned with himself, he’d certainly inflicted worse, in the past.
“You’re dodging the question.” the Valkyrie continued, before Loki could think of how to reply. “Are you alright?”
Loki opened his mouth to wave off the concern, only for the breath to catch in his throat as a bolt of pain lanced through his chest at his next inhale.
Right. No deep breathing.
“I--I’m fine.” he managed to gasp out, irritated at how weak the words sounded, even to his own ears.
“Really?” the Valkyrie replied with an audible snort. “Can you stand up?”
Loki felt himself scowl, and opened his mouth to retort, “I--”
“Hey uh, Loki? It’s Bruce.” Bruce’s voice interrupted his impending tirade. “Can you tell me how you feel?”
Irritation blooming in his chest, now, Loki grit his teeth against the pain and forced himself back up onto his elbows before replying, “I’m fine.”
“Loki.” two voices snapped in near perfect synchronicity.
Ignoring the flush that flared at his cheeks at the chiding (and really, if the two were already becoming this adept and calling his bluff, he’d have to start developing new methods of evasion), Loki swallowed and took another experimentally deep breath.
Not seconds later, his features twisted into a grimace at the sharp pain that cinched at his ribs and side, and he allowed himself to collapse back onto the floor below with a shuddering exhale.
“I--” he swallowed. “It is becoming increasingly difficult to breathe.” he admitted, after a beat.
The sound of the Valkyrie swearing beneath her breath was drowned out by Bruce’s next words.
“Alright. Okay.” he hesitated, and mumbled something unintelligible before continuing, “The oxygen leak was definitely aggravated by the collapse, then.”
“I--” Loki gasped slightly as his chest spasmed, again. “I would say that is an astute observation.”
“Ha, okay.” Bruce replied, “Glad to hear you still have enough breath left to mouth off.”
“As ever,” Loki returned with a small smirk, though he knew Bruce could not see it, and willed himself not to succumb to the fear he could feel beginning to gnaw at his gut, the longer he sat in darkness and pain, listening to voices with no vessels.
(Neither of which belonged to Thor which, to his chagrin, may have been the source of more of his distress than he’d like to admit).
“How are you feeling, otherwise?” Bruce continued, almost all traces of good humor gone from his tone, now. “Are you hurt anywhere?”
Loki hesitated at the words, and took a moment to consider the words.
Immediately and as if on cue, the pain at his right side flared again, and Loki paused briefly before reaching out with his left hand to tentatively prod at the spot that seemed to be the main source of the pain--
Only to draw back with a sharp hiss not a moment later, his teeth bared in a snarl and hand coming away soaked with warm blood.
“Loki?” Bruce prodded, sounding a little anxious, now.
“I--I seem to be bleeding.” Loki muttered, knowing full well that he would not be able to manage a very convincing deception, at the present moment. “I can’t tell how much.”
“Okay,” Bruce replied and, though Loki could not see him, he could envision how the man might be nodding a bit frantically to himself. “Alright. Just--We’re gonna get you out soon.”
“I should hope so.” Loki returned, forcing a bit of snark into his tone, if only to counter the panic he could feel beginning to claw in at the edges of his consciousness. “I rather detest lying here in a puddle of my own blood.”
“Can’t say that I blame you.” the Valkyrie spoke up. “Seriously though, Lackey.” she paused, seeming to carefully consider her next words, before adding, quiet now, “Just hang on. We just--We’re gonna find a way to get you out of there.”
It took a moment for the words to sink in, though Loki felt something inside himself chill slightly when they did.
If he was still trapped on the other side of the jammed door, and nobody had seen fit to do anything about it, yet…
There was obviously some further complication than either of his current conversation partners were willing to admit.
Rather than speak the realization aloud, however, and therefore give voice to the fear drifting near the forefront of his mind, Loki simply countered, “Right. Because that was so reassuring the first time.”
He could practically hear the Valkyrie rolling her eyes in response.
“Don’t tempt me to leave you in there.” she retorted. “Thor would murder me.”
Something within Loki twisted at the mention of his brother, and he found himself suddenly short of breath, having to fight the ridiculous urge to burst into tears.
He heaved another shallow inhale, only to break off into a series of shallow coughs as his lungs constricted painfully.
“Loki?” this time, Loki could not tell who the call had come from.
“I--Ah!” he broke off, and coughed again, the chill between his lungs spreading sickeningly through his chest as he wheezed for breath.
“--old on!” the Valkyrie’s voice filtered back through the haze that had begun to film over his consciousness. “Just hold on. He’ll--We’ll get you out.”
“He’s running out of time.” Bruce’s quiet murmur carried through the haze, low, yet the urgency behind the words was still identifiable.
“I know,” the Valkyrie snapped back. “Can’t we just--”
“Loki?”
A new voice cut into the conversation, and Loki felt his tight chest shudder out in a small sob at the sound of it.
“Thor,” he tried to call, though he found himself suddenly unable to offer anything beyond a hoarse whisper.
The bands around his lungs tightened again, and Loki felt the cold travel down his shoulders and to his very fingertips.
“Thor!” he attempted, again, tears prickling just behind his eyes, now.
And, in spite of himself, Loki could not find it within himself to feel ashamed of the fact.
“Lo--What’s wrong with him?” Thor demanded, no doubt turning on his companions to peg them with a righteously stormy expression.
“The oxygen’s still running out.” Bruce informed quickly. “He’s injured, too, though we don’t know--”
Thor’s low growl interrupted him before he could finish.
“Why is he still in there?” he demanded.
Feeling as if he’d been spoken over for quite long enough, now, Loki opened his mouth to cut in--
Only for his breath to catch in his throat, his neck seizing as he fought to either inhale or exhale past the sudden tightness he could feel building there.
“Loki?” Thor’s voice filtered in through the haze. “Loki!”
“We couldn’t move it, Thor!” the Valkyrie informed, sounding almost distraught, now. “Not without risking--”
“Oh, damn that!” Thor cried.
The next moment, a shaft of light cut in through the gloom, and Loki squinted against it, relief flooding his chest even as he continued to writhe on the floor, still fighting for breath.
Another beat, and more light flooded in, a gap almost large enough for a grown man to fit through being wrenched open in the metal of the wall.
And, his breaths leaving him in shallow, aching pants, Loki watched as a figure appeared in the gap, its broad shoulders blocking out most of the light, now.
“Thor,” he gasped, and swallowed past what felt like a mouthful of glass to tamper down on the sob that wanted to crawl up his throat at the sight.
He blinked, and suddenly Thor was crouched at his side, brow furrowed as he laid a gentle hand on Loki’s shoulder, the touch grounding and blessedly warm.
“It’s alright, Loki.” Thor was saying, though his features had begun to swim, slightly, as Loki studied him. “It’s going to be alright.”
And, even if he had wanted to reply, Loki could not.
Rather, he felt his next inhale stutter to a halt not halfway through, and he distantly registered another bolt of pain lacing through his lungs.
“Loki?” Thor demanded, his free hand shifting beneath Loki’s shoulders to cradle them carefully. “Are you--”
The rest of the words were drowned out by the roaring in Loki’s head, and he had just enough time to take in Thor’s somewhat stricken expression before his vision greyed out entirely.
---
The first thing that Loki registered, when he blinked back into wakefulness, was that he had been moved to lie on a bed.
The pain in his lungs had, for the most part, dissipated, he noted with some relief. The cold, as well, seemed to have left him, though that could have been due in part to the fact that he was currently buried beneath at least three heavy blankets.
With a groan, Loki shifted to lie on his uninjured side--
Only to freeze when he came face to face with Thor’s steely expression.
“You’re awake.” Thor greeted, his tone neither warm nor welcoming.
A little taken aback, though not at all willing to show it, Loki forced a small smile onto his face, the effort feeling slightly stiff.
“Unfortunately.” he drawled, and hesitated only a brief moment before attempting to lever himself up into a sitting position.
“Stop,” Thor commanded, and reached out a hand to press Loki’s shoulder back down onto the mattress below. “I--I did not think you would awaken so soon.”
It was only then that Loki noticed the spool of what looked like thick thread held in one of Thor’s large hands, a sturdy needle cradled in the other.
“It needs stitching.” Thor informed, a little sheepishly, and gestured vaguely to Loki’s side.
Loki’s side, which had been wrapped in loose bandages while he had been unconscious, blood already beginning to seep through the cloth bound just below his ribs.
Loki blinked slightly in confusion, before the meaning behind the words registered, and he had to swallow past the sickness he could feel cloying at the back of his throat before replying.
“Do what you must.” he hissed, and allowed his head to fall back against the pillows behind with a small huff.
Beside him, Thor seemed to tense, before he inhaled a small breath and leaned forward and began to deftly unwind the bandages from around Loki’s waist, his knuckles warm as they brushed at the skin there.
All too quickly, it seemed, the wound on Loki’s side was revealed, already weeping new blood as the last of the bandages were removed, and Loki had to suppress the urge to shudder as the cold air hit his suddenly bare skin.
“This may sting.” Thor warned, already hovering before him with the needle held aloft. “Do you want--”
“Just get on with it.” Loki snapped, turning away to avoid Thor’s slightly wounded expression as his own lips pinched into a frown.
And, after another brief moment of hesitation, Thor nodded tightly.
“This will sting.” he warned, before moving to begin the first of the stitches.
The first incision did, in fact, sting, and Loki bit his lip against the grimace that wanted to surface on his features at the cold bite of the needle.
Though, if the brief flash of discomfort on Thor’s face was anything to go by, he hadn’t hid his pain nearly as well as he had intended.
Eventually, they fell into a rhythm, Loki breathing evenly through his nose (grateful at the chance to breathe comfortably at all, now) while Thor continued to stitch, his movements surprisingly steady and skillful.
As the silence between them stretched on, however, and Thor continued to work, Loki could not help but notice the storminess just behind his brother’s expression, nor the way his mouth was set into a stern frown as his remaining eye carefully tracked his progress.
“You’re angry.” Loki determined, after a few additional minutes of silence had passed, and did not miss the way Thor’s shoulders tensed slightly at the accusation.
There was a beat, before Thor deflated somewhat, his shoulders hunching forward as his brow furrowed slightly.
“I am not angry at you.”
“With me, then.” Loki countered with a small tilt of his head.
“I--” Thor hesitated, his hands hovering over Loki’s side faltering somewhat, before he finished the last of his stitches, his attention remaining trained on where he was tying off the string for another long minute.
“I do not wish to wish to cause you any additional upset.” Thor muttered, at length.
Unable to stop himself, Loki smirked at the words.
“Thor,” he began, and tilted his head in a slight reprimand. “I have just spent the past several hours locked in a storeroom quickly draining of oxygen, bleeding out in the dark.” he paused, and pointedly ignored Thor’s somewhat stricken expression to continue, “I hardly think there is any ‘additional upset’ left for you to cause me.”
There was a beat, before Thor’s expression grew dark, his mouth turning down into a scowl so furious Loki nearly reeled back at the sight of it.
“I--” Thor began, glancing briefly away before continuing, “I only wish you would not treat your own wellbeing so--so flippantly.”
Loki blinked. Of all the potential responses he had been anticipating…
This had not even made the top three.
Rather than address the issue head on, however, Loki simply forced a small huff of a laugh.
“I don’t pretend to know what you mean,” he replied with a small, humorless grin. “Surely there are more pressing--”
“You pushed me, Loki!” Thor cried, suddenly, his expression twisting into something like a mix of fury and confusion.
Again, Loki blinked.
“Is that what this is about?” he inquired, at length, and shook his head slightly in bewilderment. “You’re upset because I--I pushed you?!”
“Ye--No!” Thor snapped with a small growl. “I’m upset because you--you carelessly tossed your own wellbeing aside to charge directly into danger!”
Ah, Loki thought.
That made more sense.
“I did what any other sensible person would do.” he argued with a small frown, not enjoying the way Thor’s expression pinched further at the words. “Had Banner or the Valkyrie been prepared--”
“That isn’t good enough!” Thor snapped, audibly heaving for breath, now.
And, for the first time since the conversation had begun, Loki was able to recognize the emotion lingering behind Thor’s eye for exactly what it was.
It was fear, he realized, his own breath stilling somewhat within his chest at the realization.
“And why not?” Loki snarled, for lack of anything better to say. “Thor, your life was--”
Before he could finish, Thor’s hand had shot out and tightened around his elbow, his eye sparking in something like raw fury, now.
“Not. Good enough.” he growled, again.
Loki swallowed, though he forced himself to straighten slightly.
(He did not, however, at all attempt to free his arm from Thor’s grip).
“Thor,” Loki repeated, “We both know that if it comes down to a choice between your life and mine, the answer is obvious.”
He spoke the words matter-of-factly, knowing full well that the sentiment had been extended between the two of them too many times to count, at this point.
What he did not expect, however, was Thor’s grip on his arm tightening almost painfully.
“Not to me, it isn’t.” Thor murmured, his brows furrowing further.
“I--” Loki faltered, something within his chest fluttering madly at the words, before he pushed the sensation aside hastily.
“Thor, you’re king.” he reminded, a tad tetchily. “Your people need you. Asgard--”
“And I need you!” Thor interrupted furiously, his breaths fanning hot and furious across Loki’s face.
All at once, Loki felt himself drawing to a halt, and he blinked stupidly as Thor’s words registered.
“What--”
“I--I cannot lose you, Loki.” Thor gasped, his expression creasing into one of pure misery. “Not--not again. I cannot do it again.”
“You--” Loki faltered, his gaze flickering away as his chest tightened, words from what felt like centuries ago rising to the forefront of his mind, unbidden, before he could stop them.
‘No barren moon…’
Swallowing past the sudden tightness in his throat, now, Loki frowned and shook his head, slightly.
“It may not be your choice.” he murmured, after a moment.
At the words, Thor drew back with a small frown.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he inquired, his voice little more than a wretched whisper.
“Just--” Loki faltered, briefly, before forcing himself to continue, “You cannot control everything, Thor.”
A long and heavy silence stretched out, then, the only sound in the quiet of the room each of them fighting to catch their breath, each exhale mingling as they sat bare inches apart.
“Perhaps not,” Thor finally broke the silence, and offered a small and reluctant nod. “But,”
He paused and, before Loki could react, one of Thor’s hands had risen to wrap warmly around the side of his neck, a small and tentative smile on his face when Loki finally glanced up to meet his gaze.
“I will control it for as long as I am able.” Thor murmured, his thumb stroking just below Loki’s jawline.
In spite of everything, Loki allowed his eyes to slip closed, his next breath leaving him with an audible shudder as he leaned slightly into the touch.
Thor huffed a small laugh and, after a moment, leaned forward to rest his forehead gently against Loki’s, his hold on Loki’s neck tightening slightly when Loki keened slightly at the contact.
“And I will protect you,” Thor continued, moving up to press a swift kiss to Loki’s temple. “As long as I am able.”
And, in spite of everything, Loki believed him.