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It was ironic, really. You’d spent your life surviving battle after battle, literally fighting for a living. You’d fought Gods, monsters, magic, and a million other things that regular people couldn’t even begin to comprehend. You worked with some of the most powerful and dangerous people (or not-people, in some cases) in the universe and you’d done nothing but keep up with their maddening and deadly pace without dying even once. As such, of course it would be a flight of stairs that would land you in the hospital at 10 at night.
To be fair, you weren’t entirely innocent in the situation. You should’ve been paying more attention to your surroundings, but like an idiot, you’d let yourself get distracted. You didn’t even feel your feet slipping from under you as you missed the first step - you barely even noticed you were falling. That was until you landed at the bottom of the stairs, a sickening pop ringing in your ears as your foot landed completely wrong beneath your body. Immediately, pain radiated throughout your entire ankle, and you couldn’t help but let out a small cry of pain. You had a high pain threshold in battle, but that was because you were expecting the pain - after all, who comes out of a battle without at least a few things sprained and/or slashed? But this was completely different. You hadn’t been expecting this, and the pain rolled through you like a wave, causing you to bite down on your lip hard enough to draw blood. God, you weren’t dealing with this well. You felt panic rising in your chest and into your throat. What if it was broken? What if you couldn’t do missions? What if you were permanently put out of action?
“Shit, shit, shit,” you mumbled. “Loki!”
He burst into the hall as you called his name, clearly having heard the almighty crash from your rapid descent of the staircase. He knelt by you, hands twitching nervously but not touching you; not yet, not until he was sure his touch wouldn’t be causing you pain.
“My love, what did you do? Did you fall?”
“Down the stairs- fuck, shit- my ankle-” you barely managed to choke out, grabbing his shirt and pulling him close. He nodded, his face tight and drawn, reaching a hand down to assess the damage. Lightly, he pressed a single finger on top of the injury, and you jerked away, tears spilling down your cheeks. “Don’t- please don’t, god, something moved, shit, Loki, what do I do? What do I do?” You asked, the panic and pain fully settling in and making your whole body feel like it was on fire. Gently, Loki wrapped an arm around your shoulder and guided your head to rest on his shoulder. You let out a half-whimper and tightened your grip on him.
“Shhh, sweetheart, stop your fretting. Take a breath, for me?” He asked sweetly, his lips pressed against your temple. You complied shakily, managing to take a few deep breaths before crumbling back into panic. Sensing that his first tactic was failing miserably, he took your shaking hand and placed it against his heart. “Look at me.” You did so. “Good girl. You need to know that I will always protect you, understand? I have never left you alone to face pain, and I shan’t start now. I am here, and I promise - I swear to you - that everything is going to be okay. You just need to trust me. I’ll always look after you, pet, through pleasure and pain.” His words were a balm to your panicked body, and you allowed yourself to calm slightly, wincing and curling further into him when the panic made way for pain.
“I think- think we might need to take a trip to the hospital… I’m sorry, it’s gonna be a long wait,” you whimpered. He silenced you with a kiss.
“Darling, any time spent with you is time I cherish. Come, I can carry you to the car.” Without another word, he picked you up as carefully as he could. The movement still drew a soft gasp of pain from you, for which Loki gave you an apologetic look. You could tell he felt guilty about hurting you, but the truth was there was no way you were going to be able to get up off the floor without some sort of pain. You pressed a kiss against his furrowed brow (or as close as you could get whilst cradled in his arms).
“My knight in shining armour,” you teased, hoping for that shy little smile that Loki reserved just for you. Your little joke worked, and you were rewarded with another tight squeeze, and your favourite smile. You made it to the car so fast that you barely registered the trip, wondering vaguely if you had hit your head on the way down. The drive was silent other than the playlist that you and Loki had created together playing quietly in the background. Usually, the two of you would be shout-singing along to the lyrics, laughing at each other and actually attempting to sing a song properly every now and again. But tonight, you rode in comfortable silence, no movement other than you scanning the roads and Loki’s thumb drawing soothing circles and patterns on the back of your hand, something he knew comforted you to no end.
You made it to the hospital, once again, so fast that you barely had time to register the trip. Once or twice you had spared a glance at the speedometer, but you had stopped pretty quickly after you realised that he was going upwards of 90 miles per hour. You knew that he was putting on a calm and protective facade for your sake, but he was just as worried as you were. You could see it in how his hands picked at the wheel, how his smile would falter when he thought you weren’t looking, how he never took his hands off you since he found you on the floor. If you had tried to tell the Avengers about this side of Loki a few years ago, they would’ve laughed in your face before locking you up in a padded cell. But now, even Thor could see the changes in the God of Mischief- he truly loved you, and was trying his very best to be good for you.
The lady at the reception gave you a sympathetic smile as Loki strode in with you in his arms. She told you to expect a long wait (that you could’ve predicted) and that there were wheelchairs lined in the corridor if “your poor boyfriend wants to give his arms a break”. Much to your surprise, Loki did the complete opposite; he held you closer to his chest and gave the receptionist a genuine smile.
“You’re very kind, but I would prefer to keep her as close to me as possible.” He chastely kissed your forehead, and you blushed. “I made a vow to stand by her, so that is what I will do.” Looking slightly perplexed, the receptionist nodded before gesturing to a pair of seats in the far corner of the room. As Loki sat down, you started to shift as if to sit on the chair next to him, but his arms tightened around you. “I wasn’t joking when I said I would be keeping you as close to me as possible. Besides, you sleep better when you can hear my breathing.”
“Sleep?” You asked, confused.
“Yes, sleep, Kitten. Did you hit your head as well as your ankle?”
“Not funny,” you mumbled, giving his chest a gentle push. He smiled regardless. “Why would I sleep? And what if they call me? Anyway, I’ll just be dead weight on you, you’ll get stiff in a few hours.”
“Nonsense, Pet. I’ll be fine. I’ll wake you when they call you. Now stop worrying, that’s my job. I’m here. Sleep.”
You felt a hand card through your hair, scratching lightly against your scalp, and you knew you were fighting a losing battle. A few minutes later, as your eyes started to slip closed, you felt another hand running up and down your back in soothing strokes. You fell asleep with Loki’s breath on your cheek, his hands on your body, and an overwhelming feeling of safety settling in your heart.
***
You woke up what you assumed to be a few hours later to Loki’s hands shaking you awake.
“Come on, wake up, love. It’s your turn to go, but they can’t examine you sleeping,” he chuckled. Your eyes opened slowly, and before you could even try to stand or sit yourself in one of the wheelchairs nearby, Loki had already swept you off your feet, carrying you to the Minor Injuries Unit where you had been called. This time, he settled you down on the chair next to him; you figured it was so the nurse would have an easier time examining you. Out of nowhere, you felt a nervous breath rattle in your lungs. What happened if there was some sort of nerve damage? Or if it was broken? Even a bad sprain could set you out of missions for months. The thought of being left alone and useless as your team fought to save lives made you feel nauseous. Loki must’ve heard your strange breath because he smiled softly at you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.
The nurse came over surprisingly quickly, and introduced herself to you as Janine. She was a kindly middle-aged woman, with prematurely greying hair and a smile that put you at ease. You smiled back at her and waved off her apology at the long wait time, explaining when prompted what had happened to bring you to the hospital. She listened and nodded in the right places, sucking in a sharp breath of sympathy when you explained how you’d landed on your ankle. Loki never stopped stroking your upper arm, almost imperceptibly, but it made you feel safer nonetheless. Eventually, after collecting some information about you - seemingly useless things, like what you did for a living, what you’d studied in high school - it was time for the examination.
“I promise I’m going to be as careful and as quick as possible, but I can’t promise this isn’t going to hurt,” she admitted, and you nodded, putting on a brave face and smiling at her.
“No worries,” you said, cringing as your voice sounded shaky even to your own ears. “I’ll be fine, I can take a little pain.”
The second she placed a hand on your ankle, you regretted those words.
You physically had to bite back a groan as she pressed her cold fingers into a particularly tender spot. You felt tears welling in your eyes, but you fought them off valiantly; everyone here had already seen you carried around the ward like some sort of damsel in distress, the last thing you needed them to see was you crying after all that. But you were tired, and you were scared, and godammit did you not deserve a few hours of weakness after a lifetime of faking strength? You noticed a single tear roll down your face and you swiped at it quickly. Loki was still stroking your upper arm, but at the sight of your tears, he shifted in his chair so he was facing you completely, and pulled you - for what felt like the hundredth time that night (not that you were complaining) - into his shoulder.
“Remember to breathe,” he whispered, but there was no hint of teasing in his tone. Maybe he could tell that you were feeling too raw and vulnerable for teasing right now. “I’m so proud of you, love, you’re doing so well. I love you so much.” You let out a pathetic squeak as Janine prodded the most painful part of your foot, but Loki held you fast, not letting you move an inch. “Eyes on me, lovely thing, it’s almost over, you’re almost done. Look at you, angel, how good you are,” he cooed softly, his chest rising and falling against your cheek as you craned your neck to look at him. “My brave warrior. When this is done, perhaps I can be convinced to watch that movie you so love, the one with the wizards.”
“Harry Potter?” You asked, a watery laugh escaping you. He nodded.
“That’s the one. We can watch the third one, I know that’s your favourite. Even though their use of magic is completely absurd, and totally unrealistic.” He lowered his voice to say the last part, laughing quietly as you shushed him. After a few minutes, the examination was done, and you breathed a heavy sigh of relief as Janine let go to your foot and the pain dulled slightly.
“Okay, so we’re not dealing with a break or a fracture, which is good,” she said with a smile. You felt some of your anxiety lessen - no break meant the recovery time would be much shorter. “It seems to me that you’ve simply overextended the muscles and tendons in the foot. I’m going to give you some crutches and a walking boot, you’ll need to use them for around 6 weeks, okay?” Unable to find the appropriate words, you nodded, a wave of nausea rolling in your stomach. A month and a half. A month and a half of being stuck, unable to walk properly, unable to help, unable to do your job. Shit.
Your thoughts spiralled further and further as you got into the car. Once again, the drive was silent save your playlist, and that silence was maintained as you entered the house again. Loki remained steadfastly by your side, helping you as you got used to hobbling around with a boot and crutches. Every now and then you would trip slightly, and his hands would be there, warm and steady and reaching out to soothe you. Finally, with the movie queued up and all the lights suitably dimmed, you made yourself comfortable with your head resting in Loki’s lap. The thought of being out of action for over a month was haunting you, though, so you found you couldn’t enjoy the way Harry was thrown about on the Knight Bus as much as you usually did. Loki moved his hand from where it had settled in your hair to cup your cheek.
“Darling, I can practically hear your thoughts racing. Talk to me.”
“I just…” You struggled to find the words.
“Whatever it is, you can tell me. I’m rather good at keeping secrets,” he quipped, a sly but reassuring smile appearing on his face. In the glow of the light, he looked… magical. Angelic, even. You were so damn lucky to have him.
“I just feel useless! I mean, six weeks? Really? Six weeks out of missions? You guys are gonna be out there, helping people, and I’ll be stuck here with this stupid fucking boot! What use am I to anyone if I’m not in the field? I can’t work computers, I can’t give intel, hell, the only use I have is fighting alongside you guys! And now I can’t even do that, so here I am, a burden, as fucking always-” You were cut off by Loki’s hand over your mouth. His eyes looked… sterner than they usually were, but there was a kindness behind them that never left him when looking at you.
“You are not to speak of yourself that way, do you understand me?” His tone was firm and commanding. Without really thinking about it, you nodded and sat up. He rearranged you to his liking until you were sitting on his lap, his arms tightly around you, his forehead pressed urgently against yours. “You must stop convincing yourself of these horrible things. Whether or not you are able to fight alongside me, you are not a burden.” His words sank in, helping to fight some of the more surface level insecurities, but you just couldn’t shake the feeling of bone-deep uselessness that had burrowed its way into your body like a parasite. He continued on, sending you hadn’t yet won the battle against your mind. “If you spent the rest of your days in that wretched boot, never able to aid in another mission, you would still be the most valuable person in my life. Do you understand how much you mean to me? Kitten, no one has ever tried to love me the way you do - nobody has ever deemed me worthy, except for you. You are my anchor, my heart, my future. I love you so much that I just want to climb to the top of Stark’s ghastly tower and proclaim to the world: ‘She’s mine! She loves me!’ You truly have no idea of how wonderful you are, do you?”
Tears were steadily dripping down your face as your lip trembled. He was right - you had no idea why he thought all those things about you, why he held you in such high esteem. Your hands shook, but you tried to keep it together as you traced a gentle finger over his lips. He watched you silently for a moment before gathering you to his chest, placing a hand at the back of your head as you started to sob.
“Hush now, my heart, I have you. And I’ll be here to reassure you whenever you need me, I swear it. I love you.”
And he never broke that promise.