Work Text:
Thor should’ve been the one doing this.
Thor should’ve been the one on his knees, laboring away in the sweltering starboard engine bay, wrenching a loose bolt tight with sweaty hands.
The rough metal edges of the wrench were digging into his palm, leaving painful imprints into the soft skin there. He cranked the tool until he felt resistance from the newly secured gas pipe, metal groaning against metal as he tightened the bolt to a fairly excessive degree.
With a tap, the small communication device in his ear crackled to life, opening the line that himself and Banner shared.
“Alright, it should be fixed,” Loki said, turning to the left where Bruce was observing him from the small porthole window of the closed door. “Banner, what do the readings say?”
“Ionoxide levels are stabilizing, I think it’s working,” filtered in Banner’s voice through the small speaker in his ear.
It had started off as a small leak, a minor nuisance, not entirely a cause for concern, but then negligence allowed the pressure to build, and the pipe eventually burst from its coupling, pumping toxic fumes into the lower decks of the Statesman. Thor should’ve been the one fixing it, or even any one of the Norns-forsaken Sakaaran engineers they had brought along. Where were they, anyway? He hadn’t seen them since departing Asgard.
Nevertheless, the task was simple enough, so simple, in fact, that he was sure even a clumsy-fingered child could do it. All that had to be done was to re-couple the loose pipe and fix the small rusted pinhole in the metal that had initiated the leak.
The biggest setback, however, was the toxin poisoning the air. A quick replacement of the atmosphere in the room utilizing the lower airlocks proved to have worked fine… to a degree. There was still a leak, and as such, there was still more toxin pumping into the air. That left Banner and his pathetic human lungs out of the question, so Loki had — albeit begrudgingly — volunteered when Banner went asking around. Anything to quell his boredom, he supposed, even if it meant menial peasant tasks.
He just had to be quick about it, get in and out before the ionoxide levels grew too dangerous for even his resilient Aesir form. He wouldn't have taken the job, however, if he knew it was going to be so bloody hot.
“It’s holding up okay, right?” Banner said. “Like— no weird noises or anything?”
Loki patted the pipe with his hand, turning towards the window and shooting Banner a terse nod. “It’s solid,” he said. “No weird noises.”
“Okay, good,” Banner said. “Just tape that hole closed and I think we’re set.”
Loki wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand, twisting around to pick up the roll of duct tape from the grated floor. Using his teeth to bite off a decently sized piece, he wrapped it around the pipe, over the small hole. He layered another piece on top of it, just in case.
“Yup, that did it,” came Banner’s voice. “Come on out, now, I don’t want you lingering. The air in there is still bad.”
Loki gathered his tools into the small designated bag, and stood up swiftly… or he would have, if it were not for the sudden spiraling of the room immediately upon the change in elevation.
His knees quivered dangerously and he stumbled to the side, trying to blink away the stars dancing in his vision.
“Woah, you okay?” Banner said, his voice distant even through the speaker in his ear.
Loki blinked a few more times and the sensation ebbed. “I’m fine,” he said, straightening himself.
He inhaled to continue speaking, but his throat was suddenly overwhelmed by an odd prickling, sending him straight into the throes of a coughing fit. He curled forwards, reaching a quaking hand up to grasp desperately at his chest, coughing until his ears started to rush.
Finally, just as he was beginning to believe it would never cease, the fit ended, leaving him heaving for air, winded and shaken. When his hearing cleared, he could hear Banner calling his name.
He turned his head towards him and his vision blurred at the movement.
Oh, he thought dizzily, that might be an issue.
“Loki! Loki, you need to get outta there,” came Banner’s voice through his earpiece.
Loki shuffled uncoordinatedly over to the thick metal door, the room now spinning in heavy swoops, punching the button that opened it. It slid open with a hiss, and he rushed into the hallway outside, twisting around and closing the door immediately behind him.
He inhaled the cooler air of the hallway deep into his lungs, and he might’ve been out of immediate danger, now, but that didn’t mean he was completely in the clear.
A sharp ache quickly rushed into his head, stabbing furiously at the spaces behind his eyes. Loki groaned and massaged his temples, gritting his teeth at the rapidly escalating malaise, washing over him like a swiftly rising tide.
You never should’ve volunteered, his brain told him. This was a terrible idea.
“You were in there too long,” Banner said. “This is— I should’ve been more careful, god, how could have I been so stupid—“
“Not your fault,” Loki said, rubbing at his tight chest.
“I’ve gotta get you looked at,” Banner said, practically vibrating with nervous energy. “Ionoxide can be deadly in large doses, and you— you were in there for a while.”
“Banner, it’s alright, I’ll be fine,” Loki said.
As if to spite him, his lungs seized and he was thrown into another coughing fit. He dimly registered a hand thumping firmly at the space between his shoulder blades as he hacked away, but his ears were ringing and his vision was crowding in and he knew it was no use.
The next cough that tore from his lungs ended in a gag. He heaved again, and suddenly he was on his knees, vomiting thin bile onto the floor below him.
He coughed a few more times, weak and shaking. The nausea did not ebb, nor did the spinning sensation in his head. In fact, he thought both of them might’ve worsened from the strain. Banner was pulling at his bicep, urging him to his feet, but Loki shook his head.
“Just give me a minute,” he said breathlessly.
“If you don’t move, I’m getting Thor,” Banner said.
Loki squeezed his eyes shut and scrunched his face in a wince. “Thor doesn’t need to know about this,” he said. “He will only exacerbate my— my misfortune.”
“Then don’t be a drama queen about it and move,” Banner said, “I can’t carry you.”
Loki clenched his jaw and forced himself to his feet, slowly and shakily. “I am not a drama queen,” he growled, “that’s— a ridiculous choice of verbiage.”
Banner’s hand was on his elbow and Loki felt a pang of annoyance deep in his chest, but his misery was outweighing most of his desire to seethe about it.
“Come on, Medical isn’t far from here,” Banner said, his voice tight. Then, quieter, “Oh man, Thor’s gonna kill me.”
“He will— he will kill me first,” Loki said. Why was it so hard to speak? His brain felt as if someone dunked it in thick soup. Words weren’t flowing right, his tongue wasn’t working.
The pair of them walked — well, Banner walked while Loki dragged his feet clumsily — through the tight halls leading to medical. They came to a set of steep, almost ladder-like stairs that led to the next floor, and Loki had no other option but to climb. He was thoroughly winded by the end of it, and they had to stop briefly while he caught his breath.
The world tilted and swayed as he trudged onwards, threatening to send him off-balance at every step. In fact, Banner had to hold him up several times along the way while he panted heavily through the feeling.
They had finally reached the corridor that medical was tucked into when Loki had to stop again, this time to bend over and vomit. He coughed weakly, his stomach churning, and another gag tore from his throat, but nothing else came up. Banner’s hands were on his shoulders, he realized woozily, keeping him from falling forwards onto his knees.
“Jesus,” Banner said when Loki was done, “we’re almost there, just a few more steps.”
Banner forced the pair of them forwards and Loki’s legs gave out by maybe the fifth step.
His collapse was slowed by firm hands under his armpits, lowering him gently to the floor. He was laid out on his side, limbs limp as Banner rearranged them into what must’ve been some sort of recovery position, cursing repeatedly under his breath.
Loki breathed heavily through his parted lips, watching Banner’s blurred figure as he crouched in front of him and chewed on his lip. Between one blink and the next, he was gathering one of Loki’s wrists into his hands and shoving back the leathers of his sleeve to feel press two fingers to the area.
Loki felt his throat spasm and he coughed, then couldn’t stop coughing. Banner was telling him to breathe, but he couldn’t, he could only cough and cough and cough. Darkness bled into the edges of his vision and he thought surely, surely this would be the one to take him under.
But it passed, and the darkness receded, and he was decidedly not unconscious even though part of him wished to be. His head throbbed, pain stabbing at his skull relentlessly. He closed his eyes and the dizziness increased tenfold, so he kept them open instead.
“Okay, okay,” Banner was saying, “I’m getting Clara. I need you to stay awake while I’m gone, okay?”
Loki nodded and swallowed thickly, trying unsuccessfully to quell the persistent nausea.
Banner stood swiftly to his feet and rushed around a corner, out of sight, but Loki heard his shoes squeak to a stop on the tile floor.
“Thor,” Banner’s voice came from the hall, “uh, I’m—“
“What’s going on?” Loki heard his brother say. “I heard you speaking with someone.”
“Uh, yeah, but I need you to listen for just one second—“ Banner said.
Loki coughed, and coughed again, and again. Perfect, he thought, hacking roughly as his body tried very hard to rid his lungs through his mouth.
“Who’s over there?” Thor said.
“Wait, just wait, don’t turn that corner— Thor—“
Loki watched through his darkening vision as Thor’s familiar figure came into view from around the corner, a very distressed looking Banner in tow.
Oh, Loki thought between coughs, I’m done for.
He managed to catch Thor’s shocked face just as his vision fizzled out, and the world followed soon thereafter.
Loki came to slowly, drifting in and out several times before he finally peeled his eyes open.
He was back in his quarters, he realized, laying on his bed, and there was a hard, plastic mask attached to his face, strapped tightly over his ears.
It was very annoying, so he reached a hand up to tug it loose, but someone rushed over and grabbed his wrist.
“Don’t touch that, it’s just oxygen,” said Thor, who was to the right of him. “It’s there to help you.”
Loki rolled his head to the side and looked at him, opening his mouth to talk, but it was difficult with the mask pressing against his face. He tried anyway. “I want to talk,” he said muffledly.
“I know, but Banner said to keep it on until he comes to check on you,” Thor said.
He looked… not exactly angry, but conflicted. Loki clenched his jaw, picking at the skin of his thumb with his finger.
“You’re upset,” Loki said.
Thor deflated with a long sigh, hanging his head. He looked back up and pressed his lips into a pale line. “I’m not— upset, I was… frightened,” he said.
Loki nodded slowly, twisting his mouth in what he hoped was a very remorseful frown.
“It’s just— you needn’t be so careless,” Thor continued. “This isn’t the first time you’ve put yourself in danger. And don’t think that I don’t notice, because I do.”
Loki rolled his eyes, mask fogging up as he huffed. This time was different, he wanted to say. Do you still doubt me, brother?
“Accident,” he said instead, firmly.
Thor took his hand into his own, sitting down in a chair that had been pulled up to the side of his bed.
“Accident or not, I need you to be more careful, Loki,” Thor said. “I’ve nearly lost you twice, I cannot— I cannot do it again.”
Sentimental oaf, Loki thought, casting his gaze at the ceiling. He kept his eyes there for several moments, as Thor rubbed his thumb gently over his knuckles. It’s not your choice. It may not be mine either.
He peered back up at Thor and nodded. “Okay,” he said.
When he closed his eyes, he found them hard to reopen, weariness lulling him back under into the gentle hand of sleep.
Thor smiled down at him and squeezed his hand. “Rest now, brother, I’m not going anywhere,” he said.
Loki allowed himself to submit, finding he had little strength left to argue, and closed his eyes.
The last thing he felt was the warmth of Thor’s hand atop his before he surrendered to blissful nothingness.