Meant To Be (Loki x reader)

Chapter forty seven - In which Tony uses the B-word

You dreamt of nothing, having fallen into such a deep sleep that not even the pain from your stab wound could wake you. When you did eventually wake up you were on your back in a dark room: still in the medical ward. You hadn't been moved from the operating table; the dull ache which remained in your side and your nose proved that that had been a smart idea.

You turned you head to the side and could just make out the shape of Loki, asleep, sat on a chair next to the operating table and slumped forward, resting his face on his folded arms atop of the table next to your torso. Gingerly, you lifted an arm and moved your hand to his hair, running your fingers through it slowly. He must be shattered if he was sleeping this deeply. You didn't want to think about why he might have had to use so much magic that he'd tired himself out like this.

Loki hummed quietly in appreciation in his sleep, causing you to not so much laugh as to breathe out heavily through your nose. This was a mistake. Pain shot through your side and you tensed in pain, biting your lip in an attempt not to make a noise and disturb Loki. He was already awake, sitting up abruptly.

"What, what's wrong?" he asked drowsily, his voice thick with sleep, blinking sleepily in the general direction of your face. He moved to brush his hair out of his eyes, a force of habit, as now there was none there to brush away. You felt a rush of affection towards him.

"I'm okay." you whispered, smiling as he yawned. "Are you?"

Loki threw you a disbelieving look, which you then thought you might have actually imagined; the room was so dark you could barely see his face. His thoughts, however, were crystal clear.

You're recovering from a stab wound, two cracked ribs and a broken nose and you're asking me if I'm alright?

I was worried about you.

I'm fine, it was fine.

You're tired out.

Yes.

Why?

He moved his chair up so that he was closer to you and gently took one of your hands.

You were in a lot of pain. It took a lot of magic to numb it.

So he hadn't used magic on his mission. He'd used it on you. You closed your eyes briefly, squeezing his hand.

Thank you.

What happened?

You started explaining to him about the technology they'd had which made them look like the team, but he stopped you.

"Thor told me about that. I mean how did this happen?" he asked, gesturing towards the stab wound which was now barely even there.

"... I got stabbed?"

Loki rolled his eyes endearingly.

"Obviously."

"There were so many of them; it was hard to keep track. I was so caught up with fighting this one guy I wasn't really thinking about any of the others."

"If I'd have been there..."

"But you weren't. Accidents happen."

"Someone stabbed you." Loki stressed.

"I'm an Avenger. It's in the job description." you retorted humorously. Loki didn't smile.

"I'm fine. It hurts a bit but I'm healing fast, right?" you continued, deciding to prove your point by moving to sit up. The pain brought tears to your eyes, but you made it. Loki was shaking his head at your stubbornness, still half asleep. You lifted the hem of your shirt to examine the stab wound; it looked as though it were a few days old rather than only a few hours. Being Asgardian and having access to high tech medical equipment had probably had a large part to play in your inhumanly fast healing process.