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There were days where Loki thought it would have been simpler if he had remained dead.
Not that he wasn’t glad most days to be alive. When the Avengers decided to use the Infinity Stones to bring back everyone that Thanos snapped out of existence, it turned out to be closer to “return everyone that was lost because of Thanos starting from the placement of the first Stone in the Gauntlet.” That saved a few extra lives that none had expected to return.
Loki, Heimdall, and a few hundred Asgardians had suddenly found themselves on Midgard and wandered into the small village that now served as their people’s home. It was hard to tell who was more surprised and confused: those who were slaughtered on the Statesman, those who were reduced to dust in the escape vessels, or those who remained alive through those five years. Thor’s eyes— including a replacement for the one that he lost to Hela— nearly popped out of his head when he returned to New Asgard after the battle to find Loki trying to burn the contents of his rats’ nest of a house in his attempt to purge the smell. The resulting hug from his teary-eyed brother threatened to kill him again.
But between the return of half the universe’s population and the Avengers welcoming back their lost comrades like Vision, Wanda Maximoff, Bucky Barnes, Sam Wilson, the child Peter Parker, and the at least familiar Romanoff, someone eventually remembered that Loki was involved in a previous invasion of Midgard. And not everyone was happy about it. Barton only withheld violence because the desire to be with his restored wife and children won out over the urge for vengeance. There were intense negotiations involved to allow Loki to remain on the planet without needing to live as a fugitive or having someone attempt to lock him away. Negotiations possibly punctuated by threats behind closed doors about Thor putting a “real thunderbolt” through the heart of someone named Secretary Thaddeus Ross. Loki only eavesdropped on part of the conversation before deciding his time could be better spent elsewhere. But he was eventually presented with a deal.
Spend the foreseeable future in a prison called the Raft or perform “community service” by assisting the constantly-expanding Avengers team on missions also for the foreseeable future.
Given the options available, Loki chose the one that allowed him his freedom and would let him keep an eye on his brother. And it was not too great of a demand on his time. They did not require him for every hint of trouble. Their numbers had swelled since Loki’s first experience with the team of “Earth’s Mightiest Heroes.” It allowed more flexibility of who they might summon. Barton seemed intent on making up for lost time with his family, only rarely joining missions. And after healing from his grave wounds, Stark would occasionally join them remotely or in person if they truly required him. But others like Rogers and Barnes were present for nearly every emergency.
But it was because of that agreement that Loki was trying to find a path through the rubble of the collapsed and unsteady wreckage of a building.
He, Thor, and the others had been presented with a relatively straightforward mission. Someone named Reed Richards had decided to collaborate with Stark Industries on a project to expand Midgard’s limited understanding of the universe beyond their world. And while the man apparently grated on the nerves of all that he had dealings with, Stark agreed that he seemed to know what he was speaking of and granted the necessary resources for his planned studies.
Unfortunately, Richards had somehow made an enemy of the new current ruler of a tiny nation called Latveria. Dr. Victor Von Doom rose to power after the Snap decimated the population, but seemed content to remain within his borders and rule with an iron fist. Albeit one less cruel than the country’s former rulers. The world had greater concerns and left him alone. At least until Richards returned and began experiencing success. In addition to the type of over-the-top dramatics that made Stark unfavorably compare Doom to Loki’s brief attempt to conquer Midgard, he turned out to be incredibly petty. He seemed intent on destroying everything that mattered to Richards for some decades-old matter.
This was not his first attempt at attacking and sabotaging something connected to Richards’s project. Merely the latest in a series of attacks. And Stark had reached his limit when people started getting hurt. He had designed a method to track some of Doom’s creations and that gave them enough warning to try getting ahead of the attack. Enough time to get in position and evacuate most of the people.
Loki was called in because Dr. Strange was notoriously difficult to contact when he did not wish to be and Maximoff was on her honeymoon with Vision. And the team had wanted an expert on magic.
Unlike most of Midgard, Doom did not fall into the narrow mindset of treating magic and science as separate concepts. He understood that they were the same. That the concepts of one intertwined and connected to the other. The way that humans channeled electricity through metal to create their devices was not that different from how a sorcerer might channel magic through runes to create enchantments. Magnetism, gravity, radiation, energy, mass, seidr, chi, life… Trying to divide them into disparate ideas provided only half the truth of the universe. If Doom was not blinded by ego, arrogance, vanity, and his stubbornness, his insight could have spurred humanity forward to a more advanced future within even their short lifespans.
Instead, he would rather craft robots, weapons, and powered armor that combined science and magic in order to destroy one man’s work because he could not bear the idea of another’s intellect being greater than his own.
His target had been a research facility in northern Arizona, chosen to be far enough from most larger cities to offer darker skies in order to measure certain forms of cosmic radiation easier. The facility had even been built outside of a city called Flagstaff that deliberately sought to avoid excessive lights at night in order to make viewing the stars easier. Stark had constructed a sturdy and impressive compound that employed people from the city within the three buildings to work on Richards’s project and others. People who would be slaughtered by Doom’s actions if he was not stopped.
It took time for Loki to truly care about the survival of the short-lived Midgardians the way that Thor did. Some were amusing or interesting, but others could honestly use a knife to the throat. But the Avengers were the protectors of their realm. And Loki had been king for a time. There was a responsibility that came with the throne, even if he had not always been the best at fulfilling it. In return for loyalty and obedience towards their king, a ruler is meant to protect his citizens and ensure that they were cared for. Midgard offered their world to Asgard when they lost their home. Loki could accept that there was a debt to be paid. Working with the Avengers as a protector towards the people of Midgard was an acceptable way to honor that debt.
Several members of the team had responded to the incoming threat to the research facility. Stark had a more personal responsibility towards his people. Rogers and Barnes had naturally come. Tensions still prickled between the infamous former Winter Soldier and Iron Man, but less often than during past missions. Not that Loki was inexperienced when it came to distrust from past crimes. There were days where he was not completely certain that many of his new teammates would care if he died on a mission, though they were unlikely to send an arrow through his heart themselves. Banner had joined them, the odd conglomeration between the man and his more feral half still unnerving at times. The young Peter Parker offered to come, but Stark gently turned the Spiderling down. Romanoff came and eventually had to taser Richards to drag him away from his work during evacuations before turning him over to his more sensible friend. And of course, Thor and Loki were present when Doom and his forces arrived.
The mission had started well. Just as straightforward as it had appeared on the surface. Most of the people were evacuated from the various buildings before Doom’s arrival. Romanoff, Rogers, and Barnes split their time between cover the escaping stragglers and handling the ground level threats. Stark, Thor, and Banner worked more on the airborne threats. And Loki had focused on trying to unravel the magical components of Doom’s machines. Until he grew bored with the inefficient method and decided to take out the source. Tracing several stronger magical energy signatures, Loki had located Doom within one of the larger buildings. And while the man was distracted with dismantling Richards’s work, Loki took advantage of the fact that wearing a large green hood along with the bulky metal mask limited his peripheral vision drastically. He snuck close and drove his blades through the joints of his gray and heavy armor.
Except it was not the true Dr. Doom. He had crafted a robotic facsimile. And the magic that Loki had sensed? Explosive devices of his own designed that used magic to enhance the destructive capabilities. Which he had scattered throughout the various floors of the building to ensure that nothing of Richards’s research could survive. And they activated moments after Loki realized that he had been tricked. He might have been impressed if the trick didn’t result in the detonation of those explosives, sending the structure collapsing inwards with Loki inside and sending him down several floors through the ensuring chaos and destruction.
Which had all led to his current predicament. Loki trapped somewhere underground, currently trying to determine if there was a path out. Nothing was stable. He was surrounded by large chunks of concrete, rebar, pipes, power conduits, and debris. Everything wedged together and barely holding in place in the aftermath. The smallest thing could send the unsteady mess crashing down again. But he needed to find a way out. He had lost the comm during the fall, so he could not call for assistance. And he did need someone down there. Someone strong enough to help. His only option would be to seek them out and lead them down.
Time was limited.
Despite the instability, nothing immediately collapsed when he began his climb. A large chunk of floor that landed at an angle that was barely feasible offered his only option. Though it would only carrying him up one level. He would have to search elsewhere in the devastation for his next move. Finding an intact staircase would be too much to expect.
The hole above was the main source of light that reached down there. Sparks from broken wires and something burning in the wreckage did not help much. Dust hung in the air and added to the difficulties navigating. Loki knew that he should take his time to scout each step carefully, but he could not sacrifice too much time either. He needed to hurry as much as he could.
He no longer heard the sounds of combat. Perhaps the fighting was over or perhaps he’d fallen down too far to hear anything. It wasn’t silent though. The deafening crashes and explosions might have faded, but there was dripping water and the cracking sparks of snapped wires. And every few moments, the broken chunks of concrete and cinderblocks shifted. Threatening to send everything cascading down again. Loki couldn’t help flinching every time. If everything began collapsing again, he would not likely survive.
There was pain from the explosion, the fall, and his ultimate landing, but he ignored his injuries. It would do him no good to dwell on the damage. He was used to pain. The Void, his first encounter with Thanos’s “hospitality,” the confrontation with the Hulk, his near death on Svartalfheim, and his actual death at Thanos’s hands. Loki could deal with pain without letting it stop him. He could keep working his way out while ignoring the way that his head pounded, his hand throbbed, his ribs—
He pushed aside that entire trail of thought from his mind. It didn’t do him any good to dwell on the injuries. They would not be allowed to interfere. He needed to concentrate. On the climb out. On finding a semi-sturdy path through the wreckage that could also be used to return. On maintaining his current spells. And on breathing. The last took more effort than it should after the building’s collapse. But he would endure.
He needed to find Thor. Loki needed his brother or at least Banner. He needed to keep going until he found one of them and led them back down. Loki could manage that.
The climb up the rubble and destroyed chunks of what used to be the ceiling took time. More time that what he had hoped. Loki was forced to backtrack when collapsed hallways and gaps in the floor blocked his path. He tried not to consider the possibility that there might not be a stable way out of the building. He kept searching. He kept trying to find his way up and out.
At first, Loki wasn’t certain that he had heard it. He almost believed that the sound was another chunk of concrete breaking free. The second time, he recognized his name. And then he realized who was calling.
“Thor?” he whispered.
Loki spotted another crack in the ceiling. He followed it, scrambling around another hole in the floor. And eventually he found another gap to the next floor up. A large opening above a half-collapsed room with a semi-intact shelf that could be clambered up to reach it.
Ignore the pain. Focus on breathing, maintaining the spells, and moving forward. He was not one to give up easily.
Once he managed to make it up, Loki glanced around. Another large room, but one with larger holes in the wall and exposed rebar. Barely even enough left to call it an actual room. That made it easier to get out into the section that used to be a corridor and follow the worried shouts.
Breathing was difficult, but Loki managed to shout back in return.
“Thor. This way.”
Loki didn’t have to go much further before he heard the heavy and fast stomping of Thor trying to rush through the wreckage. He flinched at the recklessness. Nothing was stable. His brother needed to be more careful before he dragged the rest of the building down on their heads.
“Slow down, you blundering bilgesnipe,” he yelled. “Do you want to be buried alive?”
Loki turned a corner and there he was. Smudged with concrete dust and soot from the battle, Thor clambered over another pile of rubble. Something tightly knotted in Loki’s chest began to loosen at the sight of him. As if a childish part of him still believed that everything would be all right now that his big brother was there.
Pure sentiment. But he allowed himself the faintest tired smile.
Thor practically slumped in relief when he spotted Loki. Then he frowned as he apparently took in more details in the dim light that filtered its way down.
Loki knew what Thor saw. Blood matting his hair on the side of his head from hitting it fairly hard at some point during the fall. Burns on his right hand from the explosions, with scorch marks marring his armor further up the arm. Scratches and gashes to the leather and a couple to his face from shrapnel. The shadows and the dark green of his armor might make it harder to notice the blood staining his lower side, but Loki didn’t have that kind of luck. As long as Loki didn’t limp or clutch uselessly at his ribs, at least Thor wouldn’t realize about the broken bones.
Loki could manage that much. That part was easy compared to the rest.
“Loki,” said Thor softly before reaching up to the side of his head and the comm. “I found him.”
And between Loki’s sharp hearing and his brother keeping the volume raised to accommodate his deafening lightning during battle, he could hear Stark respond, “Told you he wouldn’t let the Iron Mask take him down. Now get Merlin out of there. We need to fall back. What’s left of the building isn’t stable.”
“We shall be cautious with our escape then,” said Thor before turning his attention back towards his brother. “Are you all right? How badly are you hurt?”
Stepping out of range of Thor’s hand before he could reach him, Loki said, “I am not hiding any wounds, brother. No illusions this time. But as you can see, I kept my word about not making you see me die again. I still live.”
“No, you didn't,” said Thor with a faint smile. “And I am thankful for that. Though perhaps you could avoid worrying us in the future by not getting caught in the middle of several explosions and a falling building.”
As if people like Romanoff or even the noble Rogers would truly grieve the loss. But he chose not to disillusion his brother.
“I will endeavor to be more careful in the future. Unfortunately, I cannot leave quite yet,” said Loki.
“Now is not the time to jest. Even you have admitted to the danger of remaining here.”
Smiling apologetically, he said, “If I could, I would leave with you this very moment. But I am in need of your help. A few floors down, someone is trapped under the wreckage and I do not have enough strength to free him alone.”
“How many floors does this place have, Stark?” asked Barnes, dropping down from a hole in the ceiling without any warning. “Because this should be the ground floor.”
“Five floors above and three sub-basements,” said Stark’s voice over the pair of comms now in the room. “I am not getting the clearest scans through all of that mess, but I am picking up something down there. A straggler who ignored the evacuation alarms?”
Eight floors. That explained a lot about his current state. That was a lot for even the strongest Asgardian to crash through.
“Do you need backup?” asked Rogers’s voice through the comms. “The rest of us are pulling out and Banner didn’t want to risk his weight being too much for the building to handle, but Stark and I should be able to make it to your position.”
Looking towards Loki, Thor said, “I think we can handle it ourselves.”
“I’ll go with them, Steve. No need to risk anyone else in this mess.” Barnes smiled despite knowing that Rogers couldn’t see him. “But if it’s bad, you’ll be the first to know.”
Turning back the way that he came, Loki said, “We should hurry. And try to step lightly.”
Thor certainly tried to follow his advice. But even when he stepped in the same places that Loki did, rubble shifted under his feet. Not even Barnes could avoid it completely. It was a rickety stack of broken pieces waiting for the right moment to fall. Every sound promised to restart the collapse. And Loki couldn’t help it. The precariousness left him unnerved and worried. The threat of imminent collapse was a constant danger that Loki couldn’t ignore as he guided them back down.
It was getting harder to ignore a lot of things. His trouble breathing. The pain wracking his body. The strain of maintain the spells. The weariness that was quickly overtaking him. But he had to keep going. The sooner that he led them down, the sooner that he could get out. He just needed to focus.
Loud crashing was all the warning that they had to jump back as something hit the floor above and large pieces of concrete broke free, collapsing the entire hallway in front of them. Cutting them off from the safe path. Loki swallowed a whine of horror, enduring the noise and hoping that the destruction stayed contained until it finally stilled. The rubble caught in place again.
He didn’t have time for this.
“We’ll find another way down,” said Barnes, flexing his metal hand and letting the plates shift in a way that Loki had learned was a sign of stress. “If they’re still alive, we can still get them out.”
There wasn’t much time for that. Loki’s head pounded, he could barely breathe, and the spells—
“Loki?”
He looked up at his brother’s uncertain tone. And immediately felt guilty about the renewed worried expression on Thor’s face. Loki followed his gaze down towards his now translucent hands.
Loki smiled ruefully at the sight. He couldn’t focus enough and he was losing strength. And thus he was losing control of one of the spells.
“What’s happening?” asked Barnes as he spotted the same thing.
Realization clearly setting in, Thor asked, “Loki… Who exactly is trapped down there?”
“I think you already know the answer to that,” he said softly.
“You said no illusions.”
“I’ve told you a hundred times that illusion-projecting and duplication-casting are two completely different powers.”
“What’s going on down there?” asked Banner, his voice coming from Thor’s comm.
Shaking his head, Thor said, “We didn’t actually find Loki. Only his magic seeking our help. My brother is the one trapped down there.”
Stark’s voice cursed over the comms, prompting Rogers to mutter something back. But Loki wasn’t paying attention to the Avengers as much as he was Thor. His brother looked like he wanted to grab his shoulders and shake him, but was resisting the urge because he knew how useless it would be.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked quietly. “You could have said something, Loki.”
“It wouldn’t change anything. And I have caused you enough suffering already. I did not want to worry you before I had to. Besides, I believed that I could endure the situation until you reached me. I survived an encounter with Banner’s more ill-tempered half, after all.” Loki smiled faintly. “I was honest about losing the comm. This was the only way that I could let you know that your help is required. Does it truly matter if it is me or another who is in need?”
Stepping forward, Barnes said, “And did you think the rest of us would hesitate because it was you?”
Loki did not answer that question. It would not be helpful to say that he’d wondered. That doubt may never fully disappear. But after dealing with them for the last several months, the idea of them abandoning him to his fate seemed somewhat less likely than before.
“We’re coming for you,” said Barnes. “But we need to know what the situation is. You said you can’t get out alone? Are you hurt or trapped?”
“Pinned down,” he admitted. “The rubble… I will not be getting out of here on my own.”
“I’m coming for you, Loki. We’ll find another way down and free you,” said Thor firmly.
Maintaining the spells was growing more difficult. As was breathing. Loki knew that his duplicate must look as intangible as mist, a mere shadow with no chance of being mistaken for the real thing. It would dissolve soon regardless of what he might intend.
“Moving quickly, but with care is of the essence,” said Loki, trying to keep his voice calm and even. “Don’t let your emotions make you reckless. If you cause the building to collapse the rest of the way, none of us will make it out of here.”
“FRIDAY has about seventy percent of the wreckage mapped now,” said Stark’s voice. “I should be able to guide you the rest of the way down. Give me five minutes and I might even be able to join you.”
Grimacing, Loki said, “We may not have time to wait for you.”
“Loki?” asked Thor.
“I will try to hold out as long as I am able, brother,” he said, some of his true emotions bleeding through. “Time is not on our side. Nor is the stability of the building.” Loki looked towards Barnes. “If it takes too long, if everything collapses, or if you can’t find a way down… Don’t let Thor see. I made him promise. I will not make him see me die again.”
“Loki—”
The duplication-casting spell dissolved before Thor could argue further. Loki opened his eyes to his real circumstances. Everything that he had been trying this best to ignore.
The heavy pile of debris on top of him, pieces of concrete across his body and crushing him. A large chunk on his chest was especially unpleasant, leaving him with at least a few broken ribs and barely able to breathe. It also pinned his left arm in place. Somewhere under the mess of rubble, his lower body was crushed beneath the weight. There were definitely broken bones, though he couldn’t focus well enough to tell which ones or how badly. It wouldn’t have hindered his magic duplicate’s mobility, but it would keep him from actually climbing out. As would the rebar skewering him through his lower side.
That would bleed when it came out, but for now the rod of metal was plugging up the hole. It was preventing his immediate death by exsanguination.
He was exhausted. Everything hurt. Various levels of agony that wracked his body as he struggled to breathe with part of the building on his chest. Loki wanted to pass out, but he couldn’t. He needed to stay focused on his last remaining spell.
He kept his burnt right hand stretched above him to help direct his power. Stuck on his back, Loki could only stare up at the green glow of his magic holding up several tons of concrete that was on the brink of collapse. He'd barely caught the broken slabs and debris before they completely crushed him. But it wasn’t a permanent solution. If he lost his grip or if anything fell on the rubble that he was already supporting, it would all come raining down.
Loki needed to hold on a little longer. Thor was coming. His brother would get him out of there. And he couldn’t make Thor watch him die again. He’d done it too many times already and he’d promised never again. He just needed to stay conscious and maintain the spell until Thor reached him.
After everything that had happened between them and their complicated history, Loki still trusted that Thor would find him.
Except his hand was trembling and the green glow was dimming. Leading to some sounds of grinding as the supported slabs of concrete shifted. Getting closer and closer to falling. Between his injuries and weariness, he was struggling to maintain the spell. And stay awake.
He could barely breathe. And trying hurt. His vision was darkening around the edges. All that was missing was Thanos’s fingers wrapped around his throat.
Broken, battered, and his strength waning fast. Loki was wrong before. He wasn’t running out of time. It was already too late.
There were voices. Thor’s voice calling his name. They must have found a way down. He didn’t know how long it had been; he’d lost track of time at some point. But Loki couldn’t answer the calls. He didn’t have the breath to try. Loki wished that he could hold out a little longer. His brother was close.
But the last scraps of magic slipped through his fingers. The green glow flickered out like a guttering candle. And the roar of collapsing concrete swallowed him.
“Loki,” shouted Thor, spotting a familiar green glow further ahead. “We’re almost there.”
He couldn’t see exactly where the light was coming from, but it should lead them the rest of the way. And when he reached his brother and freed him, Thor would thoroughly yell at him for the entire situation. Because Thor was done watching his brother be harmed. Every time that he lost him was worse than the time before. And maybe it would be unfair to shout at him, but it would make him feel better.
Then he would hunt down Doom and send a lightning bolt through his skull. He was the one truly responsible.
As Thor carefully navigated the rubble, the glow suddenly flickered out. And everything came crashing down again. He instinctively threw himself at Barnes in an attempt to shield him. But most of the destruction seemed focused up ahead. Where the light of his brother’s magic used to be.
“Loki,” he shouted, but his words were swallowed by the destruction.
When everything grew still and quiet once more, Thor flung himself forward again. Caution discarded as he ran through the rubble. Barnes yelling after him didn’t matter. Worried questions over the comms didn’t matter. His brother needed him.
He was a little more careful when he started shifting chunks of concrete. He couldn’t risk something shifting the wrong way. Thor couldn’t risk hurting Loki.
Or rather, hurting him more.
“Loki! Answer me!”
Barnes joined him in a heartbeat. His strength similar to Rogers, he could manage the large and awkward burdens. Bracing the unsteady pile of debris when Thor needed to remove a larger piece. And helping Thor move the heaviest slabs. They didn’t know exactly where Loki was under the destruction, but they were clearing their way through the broken rubble.
They were only part of the way through the concrete, metal, and debris when Thor heard the sound of repulsors. Belatedly, he realized that he’d been ignoring the comms for longer than he’d realized. But Stark had managed to navigate through the maze of the destroyed building. He flew down through the new opening above them, though not yet landing. His helmet turned briefly as he searched with his sensors.
“Over here,” said Stark, finally landing at a different spot among the wreckage. “I’m picking up a heartbeat.”
Thor immediately moved to the new spot to begin digging. Scraping his hands on the rough concrete in his hurry. Pulling and shoving away at the rubble.
“Steve? Nat? Bruce?” said Stark over the comms as he moved to help. “Get the quinjet ready. We’ll want to get out of here in a hurry.”
Barnes found the first hints of blood on the stone. Stark uncovered a burnt hand. And then Thor managed to expose his brother’s pale face.
“Loki,” he said, reaching for a large slab.
Uncovering the rest of his brother went quickly with the three of them. And Thor immediately felt grateful that Loki was unconscious. He had already glimpsed some of the wounds from his illusion. But either Thor missed some or the latest collapse had caused more. At least one leg was completely crushed and there was a piece of rebar through him. Farther down and off-centered compared to what the Kursed’s blade did to him. That did not make it much better. His breathing was shallow, but at least he was breathing.
Muttering a curse, Stark said, “Get the first aid kit ready to stabilize Merlin when we get him up there, Bruce. It’s bad.”
“Call Shuri,” said Barnes. “See if she can meet us at the Avengers’ Compound or ask if we can bring him to Wakanda. That’s his best shot.”
Thor carefully removed his cape. When he pulled Loki off the rebar, he was going to need something to staunch the bleeding. It would not be perfect. But it would have to be enough. Otherwise, his brother might bleed out before they could get him help.
“Can you fly him out?” asked Thor. “Your suit would be a faster and smoother flight for him.”
“I have a clear route. I can get him out,” confirmed Stark with a nod before glancing up.
Thor nodded firmly to himself before handing Barnes his folded cape. Kneeling beside his brother’s prone body, he carefully slid his arms under Loki. One under his legs and the other behind his back. And with one smooth motion, Thor stood up and lifted Loki off the exposed rebar. Barnes immediately moved in with the cape to press against the deep wounds now pouring out blood.
“Hold on, Loki,” murmured Thor, holding him a moment before turning towards the waiting Stark. “Hold on.”
Loki didn’t remember what happened after his first true death. The real one as opposed to his various fake ones. He didn’t know if attacking Thanos with a knife and getting his neck snapped for his trouble was close enough to combat to gain access to Valhalla or if he would have been denied entrance regardless of the cause of death because he was not truly Asgardian. He couldn’t remember where he ended up. And because he couldn’t remember what it was like being dead the first time, Loki didn’t know what to expect the second time.
He didn’t think Valhalla would have annoying beeping or dull aches. And Hel should have been much colder. But Loki knew that he was dead. That was the one thing that he knew for certain.
“Since my brother met you, he brings me the most interesting challenges,” said a young woman’s voice, an unfamiliar accent to her words. “While they appear similar to us, Asgardians are not exactly the same as humans. Did you know that they have denser muscles and bones, explaining their increased durability and strength compared to us?”
“And why the skinny sorcerer is that heavy,” said Stark.
Loki wanted to frown at that voice. What was Stark doing there? Did he die too? That seemed unfair, having to deal with the man in both life and death. Though he was one of the more interesting humans that he spent time around. There could be worse people to be stuck with. But he did want to know why the man was present. Unfortunately, as curious as he might be, Loki couldn’t seem to wrangle up the energy to open his eyes yet.
“But despite all of that, he managed to break himself quite thoroughly,” she continued. “A concussion, four broken ribs and even more that are bruised, a variety of crush injuries to his lower body including fractures to his pelvis, one femur, one tibia, both fibula, and most of his left foot. Not to mention the puncture wound through his torso, the burns to his right hand, and the various lacerations and contusions.”
“The blood loss was bad too. Not exactly a lot of donors outside of New Asgard.”
“As I said, the most interesting challenges.”
Letting his voice drop, Stark said, “But he’s going to pull through, right?”
“It was not easy, but between the available technology that you had on site, what I brought along, and his people’s natural resilience, it should be enough to ensure that he recovers. Though it is good that I met you here. I do not think that he would have survived all the way to Wakanda. But he is responding well from what I can tell. I can stay a few more days to observe his progress though.”
“Thanks, Shuri. And I’m sure Thor will thank you when he wakes up.”
“Let him rest. And it was no trouble. Besides, I have a brother myself. If he was in need, I would hope that I could ask you for help.”
The voices moved away, leaving Loki alone with his thoughts and the beeping. And a growing suspicion that he wasn’t actually dead. Merely drugged against feeling the pain of his injuries. Though it did make him wonder how the humans found something that worked effectively on Asgardians. Their alcohol certainly wasn’t strong enough to affect him.
Loki somehow managed to crack open his eyes. A white room, a white bed, various machines, and—
Thor.
His brother was wedged into a seat on Loki’s left side. Sleeping with his hand resting on the bed next to Loki’s. Clearly, he wore himself out keeping watch over his injured brother until he couldn’t stay awake any longer.
Despite not wanting to move, Loki inched his hand over a little further. Letting it curl over Thor’s limp hand.
He knew Thor would get him out of there. That childish faith proved right. His older brother found and saved him. Loki trusted him and he came through for him when Loki needed him most.
Weariness won out. Loki’s eyes slid shut again. He was safe and could rest. Thor would still be there in the morning.
“Loki?” asked Thor blearily.
Breathing deeply hurt, but he managed to respond. Just a few words. But it was enough.
“Didn’t die again.”
“No,” said Thor quietly, relief filling the words. “You didn’t.”