The twin

The cookie of understanding

"You spherical dumbass!!!"
"What do you mean spherical dumbass?"
"From all angles! MJ likes you!!! Not Liz! What's your problem?!!!" Elektra screamed at him, lovingly.
"She has Brad!"
"He is a prime example of collective Gen Z stupidity! He doesn't even know anything about gamma radiation!" Again, it was lovingly.
"I don't wanna mess this up," Peter sighed and she plomped down on the couch in front of her laptop.
"You won't. When you get to Paris give her the necklace and it's gonna be alright,"
"How do you know?"
Elektra just touched her temple.
"Where are you with building a Karen-DJ-roomba?"
"Shuri added some of her own designs and currently I'm making those lightsabers and automatising the Lego Death Star,"
"Cool! I want the blue one,"
"Deal," Elektra nodded. "When will you be back?"
"In three weeks, Ells," he answered.
"Then better get to work in charming the infamous, the incredible, Michelle Jones, known as MJ. My dear brother. You shall sweep her off her feet and bring her to the unknown realms of love. You shall bring clouds for her!-"
"That's not possible-"
"You shall move the mountains! Tame seas! Save her from the clutches of the evil and vile Brad the Stupid-"
He chuckled, "Bye-bye, Buns,"
He grinned and ended the call.
It was four in the morning. Damn. Elektra skipped down the stairs and into the elevator. She flounced quietly into the kitchen and rummaged through the fridge.
Take-out. Nah.
Yesterday's paprika. Meh.
Cookies and cream from today. Hell yes!
She took the giant box and skipped back to the room when she heard groans and cries coming from what she thought was Loki's room, judging by the design on the door.
She willed her magic to feel. She felt his terror and without a thought flew into the room. She saw his writhing form. The sweat on the sheets. He was having a nightmare. She stalked quietly to him.
Elektra knew how to wake someone up from nightmares.
She grabbed his arms from flailing and gripped them. She used her telekinesis to hold them down.
"Hey, you're okay. It's all good. You're in the compound. In your room. Walls are green. Black wardrobe, cup of tea. It's all good," she spoke soothingly, slowly letting go of his hands. She let her healer's side take over. She washed comfort and warmth through him. His eyes snapped open and he gripped her hands flipping them so she was beneath him.
"Hi," she said. He blinked rapidly and rolled over, letting Elektra go. "You had a nightmare," she explained quietly and he looked away. "Hey, it's okay, Peter has them, too," she comforted and he got up. She quickly followed.
"Are you okay?" She asked carefully and sent another wave of comfort.
"Now, yes," he said quietly and she would've missed it if she hadn't sharpened her hearing.
"Now is good. Do you have them often?" She asked.

No pity or resentment in her voice. Loki didn't know what she would do, he didn't feel any sort of mistrust towards her. She isn't afraid of him, and she gave him books and friendship. He wasn't light to trust but he didn't get a reason not to. He decided to tell her the truth. "Some are bad, like this one-"
"No, not how bad. Just, how often?"
She didn't want to know what he was dreaming... rather how much.
"The worst ones are rare, the bad ones are every night,"
Loki expected, now that she had knowledge, her to go away.
She hummed and opened a box.
"I've got cookies. I'm willing to share them," she said seriously and plopped down on his couch. Loki turned around and rose a brow. She wiggled the box and he sighed. Elektra rose her black eyebrows in question. He sat down on the end of the couch. She scanned over the books on his table and turned around.
"You started Harry Potter," she commented and took the book, shoving the box of cookies in his hands.
"Yes, I have. It is not that good,"
She gasped, "No cookies for you, mister. Learn some respect!" She squeaked and turned to the page he stopped on. Absentmindedly, she came closer to him. She stuck her hand intot he box and pulled out a few cookies.
"Okay, what's your favourite character?" She asked and turned around. To face him. Completely acting as if he wasn't a war criminal. They were sitting here, in his room. Face to face, with crossed legs discussing books, at four in the morning.
"Hermione," he said and tentatively slid a hand into the box.
"Knew it, you already finished the first two," she nodded and took the Prisoner of Azkaban. "Do you want to sleep?" She asked quietly and carefully.
"I am quite tired from our mission," he confessed. He told the truth because of the sincerity in her voice. Her eyes shone true. She smiled at him.
"Okay, lie down," she checked if he was okay with it. He nodded and lied down, his head resting on the armrest. She shuffled and seconds later a fluffy blanket was draped over him. A soft vanilla and orange scent to it. It was completely white and soft and comforting. He snuggled closer to it, trying to be inconspicuous. She settled with one of her own and opened the Harry Potter book. He rose an inquisitive eyebrow at her and she just shrugged.
"Harry Potter was a highly unusual boy in many ways. For one thing, he hated the summer holidays more than any other time of the year. For another, he wanted to do his homework but was forced to do it in secret, in the dead of the night. He also happened to be a wizard..."
her voice turned dizzyingly deep and soft. Just a slight soft hum on the wind caressing his ears.

This was the first night in a long time he slept soundly.