The Old Scars | Loki Hurt/Comfort

Screams of Fright

Loki was silent then, observing my fingers bandage the cuts. At the touch, he winced again, his eyes following every movement of my hands and his mind seemingly drifting into faraway lands.

"Loki, hello? Can you hear me?" I asked softly for the third time, patiently waiting for the god to turn his head.

"Y...Yes, of course. I'm sorry, what were you saying?" He didn't exactly look tired. His eyes were still nervously watching my fingers bandage his arms, but he was leaning against the sink now in order to stand upright.

"Can I get you a chair or something else to sit on? Or would you rather go to bed again? You look paler than usual." Didn't think paler than usual was possible for Loki's skin. This time I spoke more quietly to not upset him.

Loki looked me in the eyes and slowly opened his mouth to answer when I noticed he was shivering, shivering more and more, the god looked like he was frozen in midst of his motion, but then he abruptly sank down onto his knees where he closed his eyes. He sat like that for a second, then, stuck in an awful paralysis, I watched the back of his head hit the tiled floor with a dull "bong".

Panic rushed through my body as Loki didn't move, and I felt the adrenaline boost my heartbeat to twice as fast. I wanted to shout, to cry for help, yet this would only worsen things for Loki. Desperately hoping for him to open his eyes again, I knelt down beside the god, listening for his breath. At least, his lungs were still doing their job. Utmost carefully, I turned him onto his back, shallowly weighing what to do next. The things Loki was wearing looked similar to yesterday's, only a loose pair of trousers and a thin pullover. Those theoretically shouldn't impede his breathing. But what else could I try?

Flashback:

"When will you finally understand that you don't have to handle everything on your own, just ask someone for help if you feel like you can't make it alone! I don't get your point, you don't have to prove anything to anyone! Look at yourself, you're clearly NOT OK, you need help! Why didn't you just ask! What am I here for, I am your friend, just finally accept you don't have to deal with everything on your own! Please, PLEASE, let me help, there'll be a day when you can't make it on your own, no matter how hard you try. Why can't you AT LEAST  confess you need help?! You always want to do everything on your own, why do you even need me as your friend then? Please, let me help you, PLEASE!" my best friend was looking at me from aghast eyes, whimpering, sobbing, crying, shouting, screaming. 

I was sitting in silence, staring at the floor, the knife lying next to me, ready to be used once again. My shirt was pulled up far enough to reveal my belly and with that, the things the person in the doorway had never been supposed to see. My back was leaning against the wall covered in once-white tiles. The public restroom of the restaurant we used to go to so often was lit by only two lightbulbs on the ceiling. Another friend was probably still sitting at our table waiting for the drinks to arrive. When I had excused myself to go to the restroom, my friend had obviously chosen to follow me. Then, the moment I had put the cold metal to my skin, the door had opened.

Present:

I couldn't call Bruce or anyone else for help, they would take an eternity to come to Loki's room, besides they probably weren't too interested in his well-being at the moment and mustn't see the not entirely bandaged wounds anyway. But Thor could? No, he was in New Asgard right now. So I'll do it on my own. Again. Come on, Y/N, as an Avenger this should be easy for you.

Loki didn't seem hurt, so normally he should wake up within a minute or so. But he took his time. I reassured myself again that he was indeed breathing. Also, his pulse was stable, so why didn't he wake up? By now, almost two minutes have passed since Loki had fainted.