The Old Scars | Loki Hurt/Comfort

Changing Bandages

Y/N's POV:

A muffled 'Yes' came through the makeshift door. I still felt sorry about the old one. I used to admire the noble carvings so often. Carefully I opened it, afraid the new handle would fall off every moment. Slowly I entered the room, wanting to give Loki some time to prepare for his visitor. For the last hours, I've been imagining what he was doing, what he was feeling at the moment. My mind had run through hundreds of scenarios, but what I saw now was nothing I was anticipating. OK, I wasn't as surprised as the day before, but when I saw him, I hurried to the bed quickly. Loki was lying there, diagonally crossing his bed, completely outstretched, his face down on the sheets and his right hand had apparently tried to reach the book on his bed table.

"Loki, wha..."

"I'm fine!" he interrupted, almost shouted, the sheets still muffling his voice. 

I sat down at the edge of the bed, Loki still hadn't raised his head. After many seconds of uncomfortable silence, I gingerly took his right hand, the one that had tried to reach the small table. It was then that I worriedly frowned at him.

"Are you cold? You're shaking like a leaf!"

I also laid my other hand on top of his, hoping he was OK with that. "Look at me. Please." I said softly, keeping my voice as calm as possible.

Loki lifted his face in slow motion and opened his eyes. He looked a little bit like he had been crying. The smile he put on his face most definitely didn't match his gaze. It was empty, not showing any happiness or some reason to smile. Still, I didn't want to question it. If he wanted to tell me anything, he could do so himself.

The trickster looked at me, smiling and shivering, not saying a single word. Well, he didn't look me in the eyes, more like slightly beside me. From that look, I assumed that his thoughts were somewhere distant right now. 

"So, um, I'd suggest we change your bandages now and, if you don't mind, take a look at the cuts." Images of Loki injuring himself resurfaced in my mind again, pictures I most definitely didn't want to see. He rolled himself onto his back again, staring at the ceiling for a moment, then he tried to sit up. I noticed he didn't want to use his arms for that, thus meaning he was indeed in pain.

"Can I help you?", I offered hesitantly, not wanting to rush him.

"I'm a god! I know you probably think of me as weak, but trust me, I'm still able to get up on my own!" He sounded nothing like the Loki I had got to know within the last months.

I took a step back at his answer. That wasn't what I had expected. Although struggling for a moment, Loki still managed to get onto his feet, rising to his full height of more than 6 feet.

Then, luckily, his facial features became friendlier again and he apologized. "I... I am so sorry, I didn't mean to say that and... I didn't intend to.. to shout at you. This wasn't how I meant to say it. Thank you for offering your help, really."

"It's OK, it's fine," I said while catching Loki clenching his hands into fists. A little unsettled by that, I chose to trust him not to stab me in the back in the next five minutes, opening the door to the bathroom for him. Since I had entered his room, I've been noticing the red hunches on the bandages. Nothing had bled through, but the wounds would definitely need much time to heal.

"What are the other Avengers doing right now? Nobody is going to come here, right?"

"They're all busy with their own stuff. Tony's giving a speech at MIT, telling the students about his new technologies and innovations. Wanda and Vision are taking a walk, but they wouldn't come here anyway. Think Rogers said he was asked to film some video crap for American schools again. Well, that wasn't exactly how he put it, he called it 'important messages for educational purposes directed at the young people going to lead our country into the future.' I don't know about the others, but as long as we don't start screaming, they won't look after us. By the way. Thor was satisfied with the story I told him at the dinner. Guess he's believed it."

Loki nodded slowly, his fingers were nervously drumming on the sink, his face directed at the floor, his skin pale.

And everything I could do was help Loki accommodate to Earth. Midgard was what the Asgardians called it. The challenge was as hard as it could possibly be, I mean, Loki had tried to conquer earth, hereby had destroyed and killed his way through New York City. The Avengers could have made at least a small effort for the public to believe Loki was no threat, no danger anymore, but it looked like they didn't care at all. Yes, it was Loki's fault, but was he really that much of a bad person? Thor should care for him, look after him. Not even he did. Oh, what pain Loki was probably going through. He was denied attention and love by his brother - blood or not - knowing him for literally a thousand years. Getting back to the task at hand, I carefully started taking off the bandage on his right arm, then the one on his left. After I had laid the dressings down onto the sink, I started examining the cuts. They were all swollen, thin lines of dark red. The blood left on his arm was crusted by now. Loki didn't look at them for long, soon turning his gaze back to the floor.

"Listen, it's important you don't scratch them open again, even if the healing process might cause some itching. Otherwise, it'll just take longer and your life won't be any easier at all."

I bowed forward to take an even closer look at his forearms. Damn, the cuts were deep, and yet he did so many.

"Loki...If you want to talk to someone about this, I'll always listen. You know that."

"Mpf... It's fine, really." He sounded more like trying to convince himself.

There was a tense silence hovering through the room, then I decided to break it. "I don't think you're weak."

"What?"

"Well, you said I'd probably take you for weak after what I've seen yesterday. But I don't. I don't think I've ever met someone as strong as you."

"Why would you say that?! Look at me, I'm nothing more than a beanpole! A lean, skinny nothing. My arms and legs look like sticks and sometimes the skin covering them is even thin enough to let my veins shine through. I am no warrior. Without my magic, everyone could easily kill me... One day even Thor said I look like I'm already dead and if I don't get any stronger, I'll soon be."

Loki sighed. Probably that was more than he'd intended to tell me.

"But you're just speaking about physical strength here."

"In hel's name, what else strength should I be talking about?"

"Maybe emotional strength? I imagine all you've gone through was very hard and yet you're here today."

He looked amused. "You mortals seem really interested in emotions, right?"

I sent Loki a questioning look.

"We don't... didn't talk about things like that in Asgard. At least Odin didn't. He always used to tell us feelings are nothing more than an obstacle on the long way of becoming a glorious king or warrior. Another reason he hated me."

"I didn't know him, but that doesn't sound like the dad of my dreams."

"It wasn't his fault. It was mine. But you wouldn't understand..."

"Oh really?" I asked, louder and faster than I had wanted to.

A confused Loki looked back at me.

"Oh it's nothing important. Just wanted to say I'll always listen to you." I smiled at him. An old smile, the smile I've been using for years. Loki stared back eyeing me oddly, but I just began to re-bandage his arms.

A/N:

So, today's chapter has more dialogue in it and I'm sort of not sure about it BUT - you get your chapter on time (finally)! Feel like I've just managed to mute my perfectionism for 5 minutes and really want to use that time to give you 1400 more words to read. Next chapter is gonna be longer and a bit more interesting, and I really hope I'll manage to publish it without too much delay as well. 

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