Work Text:
Loki knows he should be fleeing now. He should roll over, rise, and slip away into the dark. But he doesn’t.
Because he’s just so tired.
And it’s relaxing, lying here and listening to Thor breathe. It’s eerie, because Loki knows that this sound is supposed to be familiar. He can’t remember hearing this sound before, but he knows he must have.
It doesn’t matter. It’s enough to lie here and listen to him breathe.
Loki means to stay awake, but his eyelids are growing heavy, and it’s hard to keep them open because of the feeling, the fact, the knowledge that is growing inside of him.
He blinks up at the darkness, the damp of blood seeping through the tight bandages. Pain spears him and he bites his tongue between his teeth. He will not cry out, because then Thor will wake and worry and Loki will force himself to leave.
The blankets are soft against his hands. Loki twists the cloth in his fists until the pain dulls again. He allows his eyes to slide closed. He can’t help it, because he’s so tired and he just can’t deny this fact any longer.
That he is safe.
Safe.