DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of the events or characters from the film Thor, nor MARVEL'S The Avengers – I am just borrowing them for play.

WARNINGS: This pairing will contain Dom/sub elements, simply due to the nature of their respective roles and also because of the perspectives I perceive as present in the relationship. Though unsure about the extent of Mature Content this fic might delve to include, the elements aforementioned above include:

petting, hand-feeding, irrational possessiveness, public displays of ownership, and subservience

These chapters are excerpts from my series Compare and Contrast the Following – they cannot be read without the context provided there.

Despite Circumstances

-~S~-

This excerpt is from Cementing Heritage, Chapter 11: Wounded. A scene from the middle of the night where Loki is invested in Steve's turmoil, allows him to achieve a sense of comfort, and then tries to seek some for himself.

-~S~-

Chapter Ten: Awareness

Loki lay on his back in bed, in track shorts and a T-shirt on top of the covers, brow furrowed as he ran through the entirety of the film they had viewed. He then added the behaviour he had witnessed during the invasion. Unfortunately, he had been so sporadically invested in Steve afterwards and so had no way to conclude how well or badly he was coping. There was evidence of grief and insomnia before he had been gathered to fight for SHIELD, but had that been left to fester into darker conditions?

He narrowed his eyes at the ceiling, contemplating the ways in which the Captain could externalise his pain before his attention was called and he sat up in surprise. He tilted his head and traced the prayers pleading for the comfort of heat and fire to the floor below him, and the very man his thoughts had been occupied with. He frowned as he delved further into the appeal without hesitation, finding snippets of terror, panic, anxiety, dread, and shame linked to the suffering having arisen from the nightmares.

He closed his eyes and shifted to sit cross-legged, arms limp so that the inside of his wrists rested on his knees. He grounded the other's perception of the room, and the time, easing his panic, and then warmed his body temperature. He foresaw an issue with him fearing drowning as well as freezing, but could not prevent the nightmares – Steve was already hindering his recovery with his attempts to supress the memories and emotions connected to them.

Loki waited as Steve moved back into the bathroom, watching as he stared at the tap before lowering the temperature with a sigh. The god nodded at his soothing his hands with lukewarm water before leaving the display and looking into the common area. Thor had fallen into a restless sleep on the couch, on his side with his arms curled to his chest and furrowed brow. Loki moved his magic to prod the edges of Thor's magical signature, a bit of fine mist agitating the sporadic curl, and he started to stir.

Loki left the two alone once it was clear that Thor was not going to try and comfort the Captain by tactlessly detailing everything he had undergone, breathing deeply as he loosened his position and laid on his back again. The two would get little – if any – sleep, but the companionship would allow for Steve to assimilate to the idea of sharing his thoughts with his friends. More so than violently punching a heavy bag and dwelling on his perceived inadequacies, anyway.

He shook his head and heaved himself up once more, tumbling carelessly off of the bed to stand and move into the common area of his own floor. He laid flat on the three-cushioned couch with his arms folded under his head, one leg bent with a bare foot on the opposite armrest and the other straightened to hang over it. He stared up at the plain ceiling, dark although the room itself was dimly lit to his eyes because of the small lights on the various electronics.

He began to muse, 'Thor hasn't been sleeping well as of late, but sparring has always been an exercise of companionship with his friends… It will ease him further into the relationship with his teammates here. Steve has used training as a way to exhaust his body and mind also, but with another present he won't be so likely to slip into self-chastisement.' He frowned. That the Captain resorted to severe heat and directing irritation inward was worrying.

Abandoned in an enclosure only lit faintly by the dim stars surrounding, he lay on the rough terrain occasionally writhing or succumbing to a particularly violent, full-body twitch. He clenched his jaw, teeth gritting as his muscles spasm at the pain. His magic was being kept from him, bound tightly and choked- He jerked his uncooperative body onto its side and curled his knees to his chest, one part comfort and one part warmth.

'You're a Frost Giant,' he thought snidely. 'What – can't you bear it? There is no fire here, no magic, NOTHING. You are left alone, here – no one could find you, even if someone mustered up the care to look. This is what you were born from: darkness, filth, cold. And THIS weakness – look at you! Praying, begging, for your 'family' – this frailty is why you were left to DIE.'

Loki heaved himself up, glaring at the opposite wall with pursed lips, and then moved with lurching limbs to the elevator. He rode up one floor and then disembarked, pausing in the dark of the common not dissimilar to the one his rooms were adjoined to. Rubbing his fingers together, he strode silently through the area to his archer's rooms. Opening the door, he crept through the kitchenette to the bedroom, leaning against the frame as though content to watch his hawk sleep.

He was, however Loki was well aware that Clint was not actually unconscious and sensed his observation. He would be content enough until spoken to.

Involuntarily his posture eased, and he slouched against the wall as his breathing evened out. He wondered if he necessarily needed to speak with the other, but leaving now would parallel Clint's own approach of Loki. He was not present for reassurance or comfort.

Suddenly Clint sighed and levered himself onto his elbows from where he lay on his stomach, glancing to Loki's form, darkly shadowed to his eyes but innately perceptible as the trickster god, and shaking his head. He moved to sit cross-legged, yawning, and Loki stepped to the side of the bed. His hawk jerked his head to the side in a nod of acquiesce to his company, and Loki crawled onto the bed to fold himself into the same position. His eyes lingered on the portion of neck bared before the other turned to him and muttered, "Couldn't sleep anyway."

He hummed and asked, "Which aspects are troubling you, in particular?"

The other raised an eyebrow. "Which aren't? The way he woke up, though – that'll cause problems, if it hasn't already. Obviously one of Fury's main concerns isn't counselling for this sort of thing."

"No… And it really should be-" Loki narrowed his eyes. "-considering that he must be aware of the trauma involved in the development of his 'heroes'."

Clint nodded again. When a moment passed with Loki continuing to gaze into the middle distance he stared at him inquiringly. Loki turned to him with a raised brow and uttered a 'what?' He shrugged, but a smirk flashed across his mouth as he questioned, "Do you wanna stay here?"

Loki purposefully stretched his lips into a wide, cruel smirk in rebuke of the mockery of the comfort he himself offered when his hawk had been troubled, and the other's throat resonated with a gulp. He leaned closer as Clint completely stilled and declared, "I don't exactly need your permission."

His pet's pupils dilated, although he wondered if in fear or arousal. He decided fear as he began to smell adrenaline on his skin and to hear his heart rate increase. He waited as Clint worked himself up, tilting his head in consideration of the other and speculating as to which aspect of their interaction in particular he had latched onto. "Is there anything else you're going to do," his mortal started carefully, "that you don't exactly need my permission for?"

'Ah, so that's it,' he thought, remarking carelessly, "I hardly need to take you by force – you've already offered yourself to me once." Clint's eyes hardened. Loki pushed further. "I anticipate you will do so again."

The dark god did not bother to block the punch but rather moved swiftly to the side so that he could grab his impudent pet's wrist as it flew past his ear. Likewise, he did not try to avoid the tackle that accompanied the action but rather twisted with the other's momentum and pinned him roughly to the bed. Clint appeared to have reverted back to tense motionless in the hopes of not provoking him further, which was a more intelligent choice considering his disadvantageous position-

-underneath him.

'I hadn't noticed before – how your eyes are darker, more the colour of steel, around the edges. Or that there's a green sheen to the blue-grey…'

Loki closed his eyes and craned his neck to lower his head onto the fragile ridge of Clint's collar bone, sighing lengthily before he breathed, "It's the waiting that's truly awful."

Reluctantly he released him, refusing to meet his eyes as he climbed off of the mattress and exited.

Clint watched him leave, and then closed his eyes as he turned away.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Very depressing, this one. I bet you were hoping for something completely different, but honestly you should have seen the version I had before where Loki was A LOT scarier instead of just... I don't know- psychologically creepy... with Clint. I understand now that I had such difficulty writing this because it's the first chapter where I actually write from Loki's perspective for the entirety of it instead of Clint. I'm not too sure I'm happy with this rewrite, but I like it well enough.

Drop a review and let me know what you think!