Loki- a tale of blood and seidr

CHAPTER-6

Steve made his way through the battle. It was almost over; the Avengers would once again emerge victorious. He was covered in blood, guts and slobber. Some mad scientist had tried to mutate animals but had not been too successful.

Steve didn't know what the man had planned for the animals to turn out but he knew that feral and twice their original size wasn't the plan.

As he bashed another large dog that tried to chew off his leg, he felt entirely done with the day.

Why could he not have a normal day? Looking at the battle field he tried to find any stranglers but the two pigs that remained were being shot by Tony.

"Well, that's over." He winced at how tired his voice sounded.

"Well now is the time for-" "If you say shawarma, I will gut you, too, Tony." Natasha at least, it seemed sounded sane.

"I was gonna say it is time for a long shower." Tony sounded so petulant it made Steve sighed.

"Not a bath in your jacuzzi?" Clint's voice came from the comm but Steve still couldn't see him from where ever he was perched.

"I don't think I wanna cross 'bathe in the blood of my enemies' from my bucket list just yet." He said it so casually that Steve could only grimace in disgust.

"Not another word, Tony." Thankfully Tony was still properly afraid of Nat.

The ride to the tower was extremely uncomfortable for everyone, except Thor, who seemed in a good mood. And from what he had gathered by his interactions with Thor, killing big, dangerous animals seemed to be a common, favoured practice in his home.

He suddenly wondered if Loki liked to hunt animals, too? Somehow, he couldn't picture it.

While Thor seemed thrilled about being able to hit things with his hammer, having watched animal planet documentaries with Loki had made Steve realise that the liked all things nature.

Wondering what he would think of these animals. He was sure the fact that Steve's team had run around chasing overgrown animals would give him a real kick. Especially, the chicken. Steve grinned, even as his face cracked with dried blood as it moved, he grimaced.

He closed his eyes and sighed, he missed the other man.

Morning runs were some of the few joys of his day that were still left. He liked the thrum of his blood as it moved. The stretch of his muscles in his legs, the dull pain in his calves.

Steve, privately, was always grateful for the Doc's serum for things that were not related to fighting. Back in his time, before the war, Steve had longed for the physical prowess that Bucky had. The ease with which he could do everything that made Steve feel like he was about to kneel over.

He wasn't jealous of his friend, only sad about his own inability. It always made him curse himself. Why wasn't he the perfect man that his father had been. His father, for all that he had never even seen the man, had been perfect.

It was something that was set in his mind the same way it had been told, that sun rose from the east. Never to be doubted.

Just for one moment, every now and then, which wasn't very many times at all, he wondered what his father would think of him now. A soldier and a leader. A national icon of strength and courage. Steve liked to think, he would have made his father proud.

He thought about his mother a little more. For many reasons. And at many times a day. When he was cooking something from his own time. Remembering how his mother had made it for him, standing in their tiny kitchen and swaying with a song shew would sing that he had never heard before. She would turn to him then, for no reason than to smile at him, bright and sunny. The safest place for him to ever be.

He slowed his pace, wondering if Loki's mom had been the same. Bright and sunny and safe. The surest home for him.

Remembering the grief filled screams that had stuck inside his mind, he knew she had.

Suddenly his heart longed to hold the sorcerer just as tightly as Bucky had held him. If only for a moment, he wanted to ease his pain.

Steve had, in the months past, stopped questioning why the other man was always near the surface of his thoughts. Just that he was.

It was another movie night for the team, where everyone barring Steve and Thor would fight each other to recommend a movie everyone could watch.

Bruce, as expected, always voted out things that could cause any kind of trouble with Hulk. His only opinion, and words were, "No, not that one."

The past few days Nat had been more frightening than he could remember outside missions and he had his suspicions about it. But he was also smart enough to not say anything.

Even Tony shut his mouth, a big miracle that needed celebrating- in silence, when she glared at him. And so, the Mightiest heroes of Earth watched movies that were labelled, 'Rom-Com' while Nat sat in Clint's lap and stuffed her face with ice cream.

That had definitely answered all his suspicions but as a gentleman, he neither voiced his thoughts nor asked any questions. Not even when her feet migrated to Bruce's head and shoulder and curled, who was sitting on the floor, leaning on the couch.

When her tub of ice cream was nearly gone, he went to the kitchen to bring her another one. The smile she gave him made him think of Bucky's little sister; missing teeth, rosy cheeks and pig tails. He smiled back.

Sitting beside Thor, he watched 'Notting Hill' he suddenly pictures himself as the struggling male and the stressed female almost at once.

He connects to the guy's inability to express himself as well as his poor financial status. Living in a depression, especially after his mom was gone had made him little better than a beggar on the street and only thanks to Bucky and the neighbourhood grandmas that had known his mother when she was alive.

The girl's part that called to him was not any one thing that he could name. After he became Captain America, he had a long line of girls and sometimes, even discreet offers of guys, to spend the night. There were many who wanted him to be a notch on their bedpost. Like a trophy wife, except it didn't last past the night.

The struggle to connect with each other reminded Steve of himself and Peggy. With the war and the fights, even a single moment past their kiss in Howard's lab had been impossible. And he wondered, sitting on that couch, surrounded by people who were almost as helpless as him in being able to choose what they wanted to do.

But he remembered his mom's words. When he would come home from a fight looking like he's been hit by a truck, wanting to cry but desperate to be strong. Wanting, needing something, anything to change.

"There is no point thinking about it now, Steve. Just be careful next time." She would say it with a bright smile and sad eyes and Steve would try, as long as he could, to stay out of a fight, to not make him mom feel sad for him. But someone was always bullying another and he had to fight. Cause no one else would.

She would never tell him no, but she would still be sad. Always tell him to be careful.

When he thought about the next time, his mind conjured up an image of Loki, sitting beside him, reading a book that was beyond his comprehension on every level.

It made him think of the night he had been crying all over Loki. He still did not want to acknowledge why he had been seeking comfort for his hurts from Loki; not wanting him to even know that he was in need of comforting.

Right now, he was only willing to admit only part of what he was feeling. And that was that Steve missed Loki. "I miss him." He hadn't known he had said it out loud until Bruce leaned against his leg and Clint nudged his shoulder and Nat placed her leg from Bruce's shoulder to his lap. Even Thor clasped his shoulder before letting go.

He smiled; he didn't think they would do this if they knew Steve was missing Loki instead of Bucky. Not that he didn't miss Bucky.

He just knew Bucky would come to him when he was ready. He hoped the same was true for Loki.