A Second Chance // Thorki

Chapter Thirty Four

Just as soon as the light at the end of the tunnel had begun to appear, it was snuffed out.

Loki's state had only worsened. His oxygen mask had been replaced by a Nasal cannula, as he was back to coughing up blood, sleeping something like 19 hours at a time before he'd become semi-conscious for a while. There came a time when even Thor wasn't allowed in, the trickster spending his waking hours in agony, alone.

The worst part was the fact that they could do nothing about it. It wasn't like they could treat it, really- none of the Agardian healers knew much about Jotun biology to begin with, let alone the mysterious illness that only seemed to afflict him.

And so, there was nothing to do but wait it out. Which was a scary, scary process. Especially when Loki was practically on the brink of death. He'd been through some shit before, but this... this, was kicking his ass.

Thor- despite the fact he was no doctor, no healer, and had no medical knowledge whatsoever- was desperate to find the cause, and hopefully, the cure.

"Banner!" The god called, standing in the doorway to the man's quarters.

There was no response, though Thor was distracted anyway- the man's room was a mess, clothes draped all over, bottles on the ground, Thor doing his best not to trip on the shoes left in front of the door.

"Bruce? Your room is a pit..." the man grumbled, stepping over various items on the floor, "Bruce?"

There was a bit of a crash bang, and Bruce came stumbling out of one of the other rooms, dressed fairly messily with his hair sticking up at odd angles. "Thor? W... w-what are you doing here? I didn't- did you knock? I didn't hear you, I would've cleaned up, or..."

"It's fine, Bruce," Thor almost chuckled, giving the man a bit of a once-over, "Were you sleeping?"

"I- yeah, actually, I... might have been." The scientist scratched the back of his neck, and there was a bit of an awkward, tense silence.

Bruce was dressed in what was definitely considered casual, what seemed like silky pyjama pants held on by the waistband, a grey, oversized T-shirt covering the rest of him. His arms were still littered with bruises and burns and cuts here and there, his hands bandaged tightly. Asgardian healers, however talented they were, didn't have quite the same amount of knowledge on midgardians and how to heal them. Asgardians didn't need much healing anyway- Thor was already pretty much healed after his experience with that snakes, bones mended and bruises gone.

Thor cleared his throat then, and Bruce shifted rather awkwardly from the door, to start cleaning up just about as fast as he could, collecting clothes from the floor and various other surfaces with somewhat shaky hands.

"How are you faring, Bruce?" Thor asked, trying to help by picking up a few shirt and such from the floor, handing them to the busy man.

"Fine, fine- my hands are shaky, but other than that I'm mostly fine... the patch did a lot. I've spent a lot of time trying to rest here, somewhat isolated, because I don't know if I'll catch any weird alien diseases from you guys..." he took a moment to shove clothes in random drawers, not really looking where he was putting things, "And if I do, I won't be immune to them, or have any soft of resistance, so..."

Thor nodded in understanding, rolling back on to the his heels before back on to the balls of his feet, "That makes sense. I'm glad you're doing well."

"What brings you here, Thor?" He asked, leaning against the dresser, almost slipping and smacking his head off of things multiple times.

"Loki." The man started with a sigh, stepping to the bed to take a seat, the mattress dipping under his weight, "He's gotten substantially worse, and we don't know what's caused it. He's frail and barely awake, and... I need to find a way to help him. To cure him."

Bruce nodded slow, "I get it. So... why do you need my help?"

"You have all of those fancy PHD things, yes?" Thor asked, "I should hope at least one would come in handy at a time like this."

"I mean... well... I... most of my PHDs are in the sciences, and none are really... medical based. Even if they were, humans are different, right? Loki's an alien." Bruce scratched the back of his neck, looking rather conflicted. "I mean, how are either of us supposed to figure out what made him sick?"

"You've got all your knowledge and I've got my knowledge on frostgiants and such. Together, I'm sure we can figure out something."

Bruce paused for a moment, before he gave a slow, tired sigh. "Fine. I'll... I'll try to help. Do you at least have a plan?"

"Uh... maybe."

"I'll take that as a no," Bruce uttered, turning to grab a pen and notebook from on top of the dresser, before joining Thor on the end of the unmade bed. "Let's start with retracing our steps... He was getting better, what changed around him to make him sick again?"

"Well... I brought him many books. Albin brought a drawing." He uttered, "Didn't you bring him a letter?"

"And a metal bouquet." Bruce continued, face flushing a deep red. "But that's it."

"A metal bouquet? Maybe the metal... set him off, or something. The smell of it. Maybe it affected him." Thor seemed rather certain, deciding it couldn't be anything but those.

Bruce turned to look at him, answering in deadpan, "No. It's sitting at his bedside, and it was made from the same metals the ship is made from. If he was going to react to those, he would've done so a month ago." The man sighed, tapping the pen on the notebook in thought. "Did you give him anything else?"

"Uh.... did I already say that Albin brought in a drawing?"

"Yeah, you did. That's like, your son, right? Did you adopt him?" Bruce asked, nudging him in the side, "I didn't think you'd want to adopt."

"It was all my idea." Thor puffed out his chest rather proudly, grinning wide. "Albin was the last child left after the massacre our sister caused, and Loki took a liking to him. So I decided to adopt him. Loki shut me down, though he reconsidered and eventually caved. We're raising him together. Along with Heimdall's help, of course."

"That's... sweet."

There was a bit of an awkward silence, before Thor's eyes went wide and he cursed under his breath, pressing his hands to his face.

Bruce was beyond confused, turning to look him over, the man cursing again, louder.

"I know why he's sick," he uttered, sounding pained, "It's all my fault, it's- it's the flowers."

Another silence, this time far more tense as Thor almost began to tremble, hands over his face as he was hunched over, elbows on his knees. "It's all my fault..."

"How can you be so sure?"

"He was recovering fine as soon as we got him off of that planet," Thor practically hissed, words tight, as if to prevent his voice cracking, "And as soon as I brought him some, he got so much worse..."

"Are you sure the flowers are still in his room?"

"They were the last time I visited him."

"Which was when?"

"An hour ago."

His chest felt so cold, so hollow- pure guilt had washed over him, completely and utterly. He'd caused this. He'd been the reason Loki was suffering.

He'd be the reason Loki died, if he didn't get there fast enough.

"I have to go," Thor decided, standing quick, "Thank you for helping me realize what a grave mistake I've made..." he sounded solemn, pained, and yet he used every bit of willpower he had to at least look strong. "I have to go save my brother."

//i have no motivation whatsoever so this is shit but I literally couldn't care less