A/N: Hi everyone, I'm back with part two, and more Loki sickness and Thor caretaking. I am so excited to how well this story took off when I started it! Here's an appreciative shout out to all of you who've read/commented. I love you all, and thank you so much!

Poor Loki isn't going to get a break at my hands. He may be the bad guy, but I can actually be even more evil. D

Special shout out to my new friend PoisonGirl125 who gave me the brilliant idea to make Loki have a debilitating fear of doctors. Perfect plot device, thank you so very much!

So what happens when the mighty trickster god falls to and must admit an illness, and therefore must be attended to by Thor? Well... this. This is what happens.

Usual disclaimers apply. No spoilers.

Enjoy!

Chapter 2

It was quiet when Loki finally awoke. His ears were ringing loudly, his body was aching, his head throbbed, and he was on fire. Sweat was pouring down his face, yet he was shivering with chills. His vision was still fuzzy when he was finally able to force his eyes open. He found himself lying on his back in bed in his dark, still room. His chest heaved in time with his heavy breathing. He blinked blearily, trying to make the fuzzy outline of his room come into focus. He squinted around, wincing as it caused his headache to flare again. He whimpered pathetically. He'd never felt so sick and pathetic in his life.

"Brother?" A tentative voice asked from the darkness somewhere beside him.

"Th-Thor?" Loki asked, surprised. He had not realized he wasn't totally alone. He also didn't particularly like the strange slur in his voice, he realized. It made him sound simple and weak.

"Thank God you're alright," the older boy breathed in relief.

"Wha… What…?" Loki tried to ask, but was unable to phrase the question.

"You fainted," Thor explained, and Loki's eyes finally adjusted so he could see his brother sitting by his bedside. "Caused a pretty big uproar. Scared everyone half to death." Loki remembered blacking out. What he didn't remember was getting to his room or getting out of his formal clothes and into his pajamas.

"H-How did I get… here?" He slurred curiously. He really didn't feel like talking. It hurt his head and throat. But his curiosity got the better of him, and he forced his body to endure so he could get his answers.

"Me," Thor said simply with a shrug of his massive shoulders. Loki tried not to think too hard into what that meant. "Mother was so upset, and the guests were all very concerned for your well-being." Loki's stomach turned painfully. This was not the sort of attention he wanted – or needed. Suddenly, embarrassment hit with a fury unmatched. He would never live this down. Now he would forever be viewed as Loki, the weaker son of Odin.

"It's okay," he said feebly, trying to sound strong to save what little of his dignity he still possessed. "I'm fine." Thor chuckled humorlessly.

"Oh, Loki, always the liar," he scoffed. Loki had never heard his brother talk this way, especially not to him. He met the other man's gaze and instantly felt the urge to look away. Thor's eyes held so much hurt, so much betrayal, and so much worry.

"Why did you not tell me?" He whispered softly, sounding more upset than ever.

"Tell you what?" Loki asked, trying to act clueless and aloof and failing miserably. His face gave it away that he knew what his brother was referring to, and he felt his cheeks burn.

"Why didn't you tell me you were feeling ill?" Thor clarified. "In the arena, you were sluggish. On our way to dinner, you had a coughing fit, and at the banquet you refused to eat anything. Yet you insisted there was nothing wrong with you when I asked. Why Loki? Why torture yourself, why make it worse?" Not one to endure such a verbal beating from his oaf of an older brother, Loki opened his mouth to respond with some biting, acidic remark designed to get Thor off his back, but just then, he began to cough and cough and cough, the force of each one of them pitching him forward in bed. He clamped a hand over his mouth to try and keep from passing his sickness onto Thor.

"Easy, brother," Thor said gently, all traces of his previous anger suddenly vanishing as he witnessed his weak brother thrown about by his own agonizing coughs. He reached out and patted Loki on the back softly. The ill young man gasped for breath, feeling stabs of pain in his chest and over his left eye.

"Ow," he mumbled pitifully, putting one hand to his throat and using the other to knead his throbbing head, closing his eyes. "Confound it, what is this?"

"I do not know, I'm afraid," Thor said worriedly, placing his other hand on his brother's chest and gently easing him back down onto his pillow. "Tomorrow I am going to send for a doctor. This illness does not appear to have Asgardian origins." At the mention of the word "doctor," the trickster god went completely white. He pressed his lips into a thin line, trying to suppress the terror welling up within him. He clenched his hands into tight fists and tried to keep his breathing steady. Thor, of course, noticed.

"Oh, come now, brother," he said in exasperation. "Do not tell me you still possess that inane fear."

"Do not call my fears inane," Loki growled contemptuously, though it was hard to sound menacing with his voice so hoarse, feeble, and congested. "Of course I still possess it." Loki had a terrible fear of doctors. The cause of this fear was unknown. Typically, Loki was able to avoid those in the medical profession altogether. The mere thought of having a doctor in his chamber, poking and prodding him within an inch of his life, was more than he could bear. Beads of sweat popped up on his brow, and he began to tremble. Tears welled up in his fever-bright eyes, but he was not about to let them fall, not in front of Thor. He fought against them with all his strength.

"Please, Thor," he begged softly, hating the fact that he'd have to beg his brother – or anyone for that matter – for something. He looked up at his brother with big, sad, terrified eyes. Thor had dubbed this particular look Loki's "puppy dog" look, for the sole reason that he looked like a small, sad dog whenever he would flash it, thus making Thor's heart and the hearts of countless others melt. "Do not make me do this." Thor struggled to remain firm, and it was visible on his face.

"Brother, you must be seen by a professional," Thor rationalized. "Do you not want to know what this is and how to treat it? Would you rather die of it?" Thor did not sound mean, cruel, or angry, only gentle and pleading. Loki hated him for it. Of course, Thor was being the reasonable one here, not Loki. The sick man bit his lip anxiously.

"But-" he started to complain, but Thor lifted his hand to signal for his brother to stop speaking.

"I do not want to hear it, brother," he said loudly. "I am sending for a doctor in the morning. You will be fine." The god of thunder was absolute. He was not going to be able to be swayed. Loki's stomach turned at the thought of what tomorrow would bring. Distraught, he slumped back, shoulders sagging in obvious defeat. There was no more use arguing it. Thor had clearly made up his mind.

"I don't feel well," he murmured, mostly to himself. Then, louder, and in order to change the subject, he asked, "Where is mother?"

"She and father still had business and the banquet to attend to," Thor explained. "Father was greatly saddened we had to miss the rest. Mother, of course, sends her well-wishes and said she would come and visit soon." Loki knew, of course, that as king and queen of Asgard, his parents were busy people. He was only all-too aware that they had a kingdom to rule along with sons to raise. Now that he and Thor were old enough to fend for themselves, Odin and Frigga were around less and less frequently. Loki had been able to accept the fact that he and Thor would often be left alone. But he couldn't help but feel a twinge of sadness at this moment. He didn't know why, but as sick as he was, he really wanted his mother there with him, assuring him that everything was going to be alright although he certainly didn't feel like it. It was a childish feeling that he quickly squashed back down to its hiding place in the deep recesses of his heart. At least, he reminded himself, Thor was by his side. That was a fine substitute – though he'd never tell Thor that.

"Oh," he said quietly, almost forgetting he needed to respond.

"I'm sorry," Thor said, and he truly looked as though he meant it. "I am all you have right now."

"It will suffice," Loki told his brother, "to have somebody." Abruptly, he wished he wasn't so aloof and haughty all the time. He wanted to tell Thor just how much he appreciated the older boy's presence, but he was not very good with sentiment. He opened his mouth to say this, but Thor smiled knowingly and nodded. That was enough for Loki. At least Thor understood his meaning. He finally was able to relax.

Thor rested his huge, warm hand on Loki's shoulder comfortingly. Loki suddenly realized how exhausted he was. He closed his eyes and began coughing harshly, this time not even bothering to cover his mouth. His brow furrowed in pain. He slumped further down into his pillow. Thor kept his hand on his brother's shoulder and his eyes trained on Loki's pale, wan face. He studied the dark circles under his ill brother's eyes.

"What can I do to make you feel better?" Thor asked. Loki slid one red-rimmed, watery eye open irritably.

"Let me sleep," he answered gruffly.

"Okay," Thor said, his voice full of nothing but love and compassion. "Can I get you anything else?" Loki deliberated this in his head for a long time.

"Water?" He finally croaked pleadingly. He didn't know why he was so thirsty or why his throat hurt so badly, but he knew that a remedy for both would be a glass of cold water. "Please?" He added for good measure. As he had figured it would, Thor's big heart melted at this and he stood immediately.

"Of course," Thor said. "I will be right back. Don't go anywhere." Loki made a noncommittal grumbling sound in the back of his throat. As if he could even move!

As soon as Thor left the room and the door swung shut leaving Loki alone, all his defenses and pretenses crumbled and he sagged into the mattress, teeth chattering and nose positively dripping. He drew the blankets higher over his head and curled up on his side, facing away from the chair Thor had been sitting in. He shivered convulsively and clenched his jaw. He closed his eyes and tried to block out all the pain and agony. He had never felt so miserable in his entire life. He just wanted to curl up and sleep, but his own achiness wouldn't allow him to relax enough for that to happen.

Moments later, Thor reentered the room bearing a tall glass of water, which he set down at Loki's bedside. He pulled the mass of blankets back just enough for Loki's head to be seen. Thor hadn't been expecting his brother to have deteriorated so much in the short time he had been gone. The trickster god was suddenly a mess, shivering like mad.

"Loki?" Thor asked, concerned. Loki moaned pitifully in response. Thor crossed the room and knelt down by the other side of the bed in front of his brother's face. Ever so tenderly, he touched his brother's forehead. Loki's flesh was burning with fever. Thor gasped and drew his hand back just as Loki, who was starting to lean into the cool touch gratefully, groaned softly.

"Th-Thor?" He murmured.

"Yes, brother," Thor said, gently swiping a lock of hair off Loki's damp forehead, out of his eyes, and tucking it behind his ear. "I am here."

"It's cold," the trickster god mumbled softly.

"You are burning up," Thor said anxiously. "How can you possibly be cold?" Loki shrugged lethargically, practically delirious with pain, exhaustion, and fever. A shudder ran down his spine and he shivered. Thor eyed his brother worriedly. He'd never seen anyone so sick.

"Perhaps it would help to drink some water," he suggested. Reluctantly, the ill man sat up, shivering hard as his shoulders came out from under the blankets. Thor pressed the ice cold glass into his brother's hands. The slick condensation made it hard for the weak god to get a good grip on it, however, and he almost dropped it twice. Seeing this, Thor placed his own hands over his brother's and helped him hold onto the glass. Still trembling shakily, Loki managed to take a small sip. He coughed weakly, moving the glass away from his face. After a few more baby sips, he removed his hands, giving the glass back to Thor, and slumped back down, shivering lightly.

"I ache all over," he murmured, snuggling back down into his cocoon of blankets and curling in on himself to keep warm.

"It's alright, brother," Thor said soothingly, returning to his chair and setting the glass down on Loki's bedside table. He then began rubbing soothing circles into Loki's lower back. The ill god of mischief sighed involuntarily and leaned closer into the loving touch. Though he would never openly admit it, he craved this sort of love and attention.

"Sleep," Thor urged softly. "You will feel better." Loki sighed deeply, closed his eyes, and did just that.

It was still dark when Thor awoke with a start. He looked around foggily for what had disturbed his peaceful slumber. His eyes landed on the bed. He slowly began to remember what was going on. Loki's being ill, and his unnaturally high temperature, why he was sleeping in the chair so he wouldn't have to leave his ailing brother's side. When all that came back to him, it was still very unclear as to why he was awake at such an ungodly hour. He was usually a very heavy sleeper.

His ears registered the sound slowly, and he realized with a start that that was probably what had awakened him. It was a soft gurgling sound, like the call of a wounded animal, something horribly sad and pitiful. And it was coming from under the heap of blankets on the bed.

"Loki?" Thor asked huskily, his voice still thick with sleep. He tried to make his eyes adjust to the darkness faster so he could see what was going on. When no answer came, he tried again, saying, "Brother?"

From where Loki was lying, there still came no response, just the same sound, a sound Thor had not actually heard coming from Loki since they were small children. Could it be? Was Loki… crying? Thor crossed the room to the other side of the bed to investigate further. Perhaps he was just imagining things, he thought. Loki had not cried since they were small, even when he was injured. But sure enough, when he got closer, he found his younger brother curled up, teeth chattering audibly, quietly sobbing behind his frozen, clammy hands.

"Loki!" Thor cried in alarm. Without thinking, he scooped his brother into his arms and lied down next to him, holding him while he sobbed. Thor didn't have a clue as to what his brother was crying about, but he knew how uncharacteristic the tears dripping down the trickster god's sallow cheeks were. It concerned the thunder god, who was not used to seeing his brother as anything but strong.

"It's okay," the giant demigod soothed. "Everything is going to be okay, Loki."

"Thor?" Loki asked between sobs muffled in Thor's shirt.

"Yes, brother?" Thor asked. He cradled his little brother tightly, feeling nothing but sympathy and love for him.

"What's happening to me?" The smaller man asked pitifully.

"I do not know," Thor answered honestly, sounding like it physically hurt him to not be able to answer sufficiently.

"I'm cold," Loki whimpered through broken sobs. Thor could not mistake the heat radiating off his brother's small body, but still he attempted to warm him by holding him close.

"Why do you cry, brother?" Thor asked, deciding to address the biggest and most confounding issue of the moment first. Loki did not answer; instead, he buried his face deeper into Thor's vast chest and shuddered, crying all the harder. The god of thunder was incredibly warm, Loki realized in the back of his mind. His presence was less of a nuisance now and more of a comfort than ever before.

Why was he crying, he asked himself? The immediate answer that flashed across his mind was that he was hurting. While this was in fact the case, however, he had to take into account that no pain had ever caused him to shed tears like this. The next thing he thought of was fear. He had just had a grisly nightmare involving frost giants from the stories his mother used to tell that had indeed startled him to the core. Then, he thought of the hot and cold feelings, the discomfort, and the misery this illness was doling out for him. He decided it was most likely a combination of all three. How could he tell his brother this, he asked himself? What was he going to do? He decided the best course of action would be to deal with the simple answers and explain when he wasn't racked with sobs.

"It hurts," he moaned. "It hurts, and I had a… a nightmare. And I feel miserable." Thor was horrified. He hated seeing his brother in such agony. He held Loki tighter and began to whisper soothingly into his ear as his mother had done when they were young and fell ill. He remembered how much that used to help Loki when he was ailing. Thor whispered to his brother about nonsensical and whimsical things, other worlds, and how he was going to be okay. Slowly, Loki's stiff, rigid frame began to relax. Thor carefully reached up the back of his brother's sweat-soaked nightshirt and began to rub his back comfortingly. These two actions by Thor managed to calm the trickster god down considerably. Loki curled up in his brother's arms, the tears slowing to an eventual stop, and fell asleep again. Thor didn't want to move and jostle him about, so instead, he simply pulled the blankets up over both of them and held his brother all through the rest of the night.

A/N: Well, I must be off. I'm going to be out of commission for the next week (Vacation ya'll! Whoop!) so this is the last part until Friday at the earliest. I hope you all like it! As always, I would love for you to review. You all are such inspirations to me, and I love hearing from you. Hope you all have a brilliant week, and see you really soon with more Loki!sickness! (And his doctor phobia - can't forget that!)

Ciao,

~PG22