Poisoned arrow
He was so impossibly, incredibly tired and he simply couldn't rest. They were always at the edge of a new discovery, being chased by some intergalactic foes that he didn't quite understand why were they after him, too. Loki understood why they would go against those Guardians guys, but him... He'd just been sharing bitter stories with Nebula about times when they were sidelined in favour of their older siblings and suddenly he'd became a Guardian by association, at least in the eyes of their enemies.
And after some ups and downs and escapes and difficult almost fatal situations, he'd ended up only with Peter Quill, the man who called himself Star Lord, on some unfamiliar underground corridors, trying to find some gadgets that maybe would help them find some peace with those creatures, or at least negotiate with them. He was oh-so-tired and he would rather be alone, or with anyone else.
His first choice would've been Nebula, of course. She was bitter and hostile like him, with an awkwardness linked to brutality he found almost endearing. Mantis was nice with him, too, which was always welcome, after the hatred, condescension and coldness he was used to (she was nice with everyone, but still). Gamora... was too much like Thor. He couldn't help but to side with Nebula in everything.
This Peter Quill... well, Loki hadn't really made an effort to get to know him and the man hadn't reached out to him back. There was something a bit off putting about the man, how well liked he was, how much all his band respected him, how everyone thought so highly of him. Loki had lived all his life being mocked and in spite of being a prince, he'd always felt.... Less.
While they were walking through those underground corridors, his overtired mind was too slow noticing the trigger, the trap for intruders and so he didn't see what was coming directly into him until it was too late. What a lovely day to continue his day.
And suddenly there was an arrow in Loki's chest, because apparently they had triggered some sort of alarm mechanism and Loki's eyes were wide, almost as much as Peter's. For a second they were frozen there, trying to understand what had happened.
“Dude!” Peter uttered, alarmed. “Shit, dude, sorry, How I did I not see that? How did neither of us see it? Oh my... I...”
Loki was stuck for a moment, which was fairly unusual since Loki was normally all over the place, never stopping, always dodging every blow. But now he was clearly not in control, which made Peter freak out even more. But something needed to be done, whichever way it was.
“What do I do? Do I take it out? Try to? Or do I leave it in so that you don't bleed out?”
That would have been a nice option, letting the arrow block the injury. Painful, yes, but preferable to what actually needed to be done. Loki could feel the tissue around the arrow being infected, feeling as though it was burning, even if it wasn't. That could only mean one thing.
“Poison” Loki mumbled. “Out.”
Which meant several things, all of them bad. That Loki was speaking like that, soft and with short words, meant he couldn't talk any other way. Poison meant that the arrow needed to get out, and apparently Loki couldn't do it himself which meant Peter would have to. While being extremely careful and quick and you know, not killing the guy or making him bleed out.
Shit. Peter had been in his fair amount of bad situations and knew his way around a seemingly hopeless one, but they didn't usually include poisoned arrows in the chest and Norse gods. But he had to act, and he had to act quickly, and if possible doing the least amount of damage possible.
So he decided that the best strategy was to simply not think and get the arrow as swiftly as possible. Bad thing was that the thing was deeply embedded in the chest (magic maybe?), so it fought him, and wasn't as quick as he had hoped. Loki didn't cry out in pain, but he did bit his lower lip until it bled and squeezed his eyes shut. And there was blood, so much blood, and Peter put pressure, which only hurt Loki even more,so much that a single tear fell from his eye.
“I'm sorry, man, I wish... If I had seen this...”
“More pressure”
Peter didn't want to, because it would only hurt the other man even more, but knew that he had to, there was blood drenching his hands, to avoid anyone bleeding out, and avoided looking into Loki's ridiculously bright and pain-filled green eyes. Then he ripped part of his shirt to do a makeshift pressure bandage of sorts, by using all his considerable force but trying not to break anything. Surely Loki could heal himself, doing a god of magic or whatever, but he'd been poisoned, with something that looked like it would be deadly for a normal person. Better not to push it.
The poison seemed to be beginning to affect Loki, who was now breathing loudly and trying to keep his eyes open while the world swam around him. He didn't like being this vulnerable, specially not in front of a mortal who was practically a stranger, but he was starting to get short of breath and dizzy and some moments he forgot where he was scared. And felt scared. Scared that he was back at the void, or back in the hands of someone who wanted to play with him. Peter saw it, but said nothing.
If he was honest with himself, Peter hadn't thought Loki could be capable of so much emotion. He'd always been confident around him, doing some magic and pretending it took no effort to save their asses when they were in trouble. Impossible to hurt, invulnerable. One of those impossible things that could bend reality and like time and dimensions... More a concept than a person.
Also his relationship with those kinds of beings was kind of...conflicted after what had happened with Ego. Technically he was part god, too, but he preferred not to think about that. Maybe he had been avoiding both Loki and Thor the short time they had been together... or together-ish. But now there was no way to avoid the man god whatever he was. Although Loki was kind of offering one.
“You get out” He said, swaying and blinking too much. “Continue with this. I can not... Continue. Cannot walk.”
Like hell he was going to do that.
“I'm not leaving you here with a hole in your chest! I'm gonna call Gamora, who will probably expecting me fuck up and for her to need to save my ass anyway, and she'll save our asses and find someone else to do this. Ugh. Probably Rocket who then will bug me about how he did what I couldn't... Ugh...”
“Then do. I can manage.”
Peter laughed under his breath. That's the kind of thing he would say if he couldn't manage at all. He sat on the floor with his back to the wall, and motioned Loki to do the same. It had been a long day, they had walked a lot, and they both could use some rest. Loki thought about it for a moment, but then his knees started bending, and he decided that sitting by his own volition was more dignified than falling and sat, all long legs and pale limbs, next to Quill.
Peter managed to get a hold of Gamora and ask her to bring a medic, too. He smiled to himself when Gamora concernedly asked if he was hurt and then told her that no, but to hurry. Loki was looking worse and worse by the moment.
“Stop trying to look whole, man. You're clearly exhausted, you have a hole in a lung and poison all in you, you don't need to pretend with me. Just... rest. C'mon, put your head here.” He said, motioning to his shoulder.
And so Loki did, mostly because he was too tired and sick to do otherwise.
“I don't... understand. You hardly know me.” Loki said, although he did welcome the warm pillow Quill's neck provided.
“That's my own fault, man, not yours.” And Peter continued talking, partly because he was get this dealt with and because he was afraid that if he stopped speaking Loki would close his eyes and then they would have trouble getting them open again. “I just... you guys... are kinda gods, right? Well, my... biological father, he was too. And long story short.. I killed him.”
“I killed my biological father, too. But he wasn't a god, just a monster.”
“Yeah, mine too. He wanted to use me to take over the universe and he killed my mom and broke my walkman. It's... a Terran music machine. I loved that thing.”
Loki continued speaking, comfortable in Quill's warm shoulder, forgetting for a bit his own pain, and just letting himself be himself.
“My father, the not biological one, wanted to use me to bring an alliance between two enemy realms, but in the...... in the end decided he would rather lie to me my whole life, and condition me against the race.... I was unknowingly part of.”
“And you didn't kill that one? Well, kudos to you. I don't even know why they call you a villain.”
Loki smiled softly but his breathing was getting slower and his eyes had more trouble staying open. The piercing pain from before had become an overpowering force asking him to sleep. But Quill couldn't have that. If Loki died under his watch Nebula would never forgive him. (And he wouldn't either, he'd seen too much death already, his mum, Groot, Yondu...).
“So what is it like, being a prince?” Peter had grown pretty poor, often daydreaming about being an space prince who was invited to feasts and could do all the things he wanted to, but couldn't because there was no means, no time, no cash.
“There are good things. Amazing access to libraries... trips to other realms and cities... all the knowledge you get....Really good apples... But all I remember is the... the disappointment of everyone. When you're royal, you're supposed to be... this ideal citizen... Like Thor. I never was... I was looked down on, even though they were my subjects. I... sometimes I wish I wasn't that bitter, you know. Asgard has given me good things, too.”
“Yeah, man, I know what you mean. I spent my whole life hating this guy that took me in after my mum died, and tried to get away from him... I spent so much time being bitter that by the time I realised that that dude had actually raised me, it was too late.”
Apparently, Peter had more in common with this deranged God than he thought. A god that had closed his eyes and was looking whiter than.... something very white. He needed him with him, no one was dying today. Even though Loki was more slumped than ever, putting all his wight on Peter and this couldn't be a good thing, like the red lines that were coming up from Loki's bandages.
“What about the magic?”
“They hated me because of that, too. Wasn't manly enough..... not true warrior.” Loki mumbled, but his voice was soft and low. He was going to lose the battle with consciousness. Peter heard Gamora calling his name in the background and let out a sigh of relief.
“Well, I think it's pretty cool.”
“I am... cool?”
“You're cool.”
He smiled. And then he was out.
-
Loki spent near a month in something that resembled an induced coma after that. As the poison lingered and it would be too dangerous for him to be awake. In that state, they could control it, prevent it from spreading to dangerous places like his brain. They were looking for a cure (a very angry Nebula along with Kraglin and some Avenger ladies) and in the meantime Thor was on the bedside, more often than not. Peter visited, too. In that one day he had gotten to know more of Loki than in all the previous months.
And he kind of liked him.
When Loki woke up, there were apples in his bedside. Probably not as good as yours, Peter said, but decent. When Peter woke up the next time after getting hurt, there was a brightly green and yellow walkman with a cassette that read “rebel demigods”.
Maybe they kind of liked each other.
Maybe they had a new shoulder to lean on.