Chapter Text
The lab was quiet, saved for the rhythmic, low hum of the gamma spectrometers and the soft click of Bruce’s keyboard. It was 2:00 AM, the exact hour Bruce usually reserved for quiet calibration—and the hour Thor usually showed up. The heavy glass doors slid open with a gentle hiss. Bruce didn’t look up immediately, but he adjusted his glasses as a large, heavy shadow fell across his workbench. "Bruce," Thor said, his voice unusually soft, stripped of its usual booming, asymmetric grandeur. "I require your expertise. And perhaps... your scanners." Bruce set his stylus down and finally looked up. Nestled securely in the crook of the God of Thunder’s massive, armored arm was a remarkably plump, vibrant green iguana. The reptile looked thoroughly unbothered, lazily blinking its golden eyes at the bright laboratory lights. "Thor," Bruce said, his voice a calm, grounded anchor in the quiet room. "Where did you find this one?" "The greenhouse on the lower levels," Thor explained, his thumb gently smoothing down the spikes on the iguana's back. He looked incredibly earnest, a deep, aching vulnerability hidden behind his exhausted eyes. "He was staring at me with a most peculiar, mocking expression. Very precise. Very... familiar." Bruce’s heart ached. This was the fifth time this week. On Monday, it had been a bright green tree frog from the compound courtyard. On Wednesday, a particularly stubborn praying mantis. Thor simply couldn't accept that a master of illusion, a man who had faked his death three times before, was truly gone. To Thor, every green creature was a potential hiding spot, a cosmic joke waiting for the punchline. Instead of sighing or pointing out the statistical improbability, Bruce merely stood up from his stool. He stepped closer into Thor’s space, offering a warm, reassuring presence. "Alright," Bruce said softly. "Let's check."
Bruce gently took the iguana from Thor’s arms, his fingers brushing against Thor’s calloused hand. He held the contact for just a second longer than necessary, offering a subtle squeeze that Thor returned with a faint, grateful tighten of his jaw. Bruce placed the iguana on a padded examination tray and pulled over a handheld bio-scanner. He ran the glowing blue light over the reptile, watching the holographic data charts cascade through the air. Thor leaned in, his shoulder pressing solidly against Bruce's. He was holding his breath, his eyes fixed on the screen as if hoping a spike in magical energy would suddenly rewrite reality. "Scanning for displaced Asgardian foreign signatures," Bruce murmured, keeping up the routine he had invented purely to give Thor peace of mind. "Checking for cloaked illusion matrices... checking thermal output." The scanner beeped, a clean, uniform tone. The monitor displayed a simple diagnosis: Reptilia; Iguana iguana; Healthy. "It's... just an iguana, Thor," Bruce said gently, turning his head to look at the god beside him. Thor’s broad shoulders sagged. The hope drained from his face, replaced by that heavy, crushing grief he carried everywhere like an invisible cloak. "Right. Of course. A foolish assumption." He looked down at his boots. "I merely thought... he loved a grand entrance. He would find great amusement in making me carry him around a laboratory."
"Hey," Bruce said, leaning his hip against the console so he was fully facing Thor. He reached out, placing a steady hand on Thor's bicep. "It's not foolish. With Loki, it’s a completely logical hypothesis. You're allowed to keep looking." Thor looked up, his blue eye searching Bruce's face. The sheer tenderness in Bruce’s expression seemed to steady him. Thor placed his large hand over Bruce's, feeling the warmth radiating from the smaller man. "You do not think me mad?" Thor asked quietly. "I think you miss your brother," Bruce replied, his voice thick with genuine affection. He stepped in a bit closer, closing the distance between them, offering the quiet comfort Thor so desperately needed. "And as long as you need to check, I’ll run the scans. Every single time. Okay?" A faint, genuine smile finally touched Thor's lips. He leaned down, pressing his forehead gently against Bruce’s, closing his eyes as he inhaled the comforting scent of clean linen and old paper that always followed the doctor. "Thank you, Bruce," Thor whispered. "Anytime," Bruce murmured against the space between them. "Now, let's go put this guy back in the greenhouse before he eats Tony's expensive orchids."
The next afternoon, Bruce walked down the residential wing of the compound to check on Thor. When the door slid open, he didn't find a grieving god staring mournfully out the window. Instead, Thor was sitting cross-legged on his massive bed, looking entirely focused. On the nightstand, a brand-new, state-of-the-art terrarium had been set up—likely courtesy of a bewildered but compliant Tony Stark. The doors were open, and the green iguana was currently perched on top of Thor's silver helmet, staring down at him with an aura of supreme superiority. "Thor?" Bruce asked, leaning against the doorframe with a smile. "I thought we were taking him back to the greenhouse." "That was the initial strategy," Thor said, not moving a muscle so he wouldn't disturb his guest. "However, upon further inspection, his demeanor is far too calculated for a simple reptile. Look at him, Bruce. He watches me with a look of profound disapproval. It is uncanny." The iguana blinked slowly, letting out a tiny, dismissive hiss. "See?" Thor beamed, a bright, genuine spark returning to his eyes. "The very same charm. Therefore, I have decided he shall remain here. I have named him Loki." Bruce walked over, standing beside the bed and looking at the lizard, who didn't seem inclined to move from its royal perch. He reached up and gently scratched the iguana under its chin. It leaned into the touch, though its eyes stayed fixed on Thor. "Loki the Iguana," Bruce tested the name out, his tone warm. "It suits him. He definitely holds a room captive." "Exactly," Thor said softly, looking up at Bruce with immense gratitude. He reached out, wrapping his hand around Bruce's wrist, drawing him just a little bit closer. "And he is much easier to manage than the original. He hasn't tried to stab me even once." "Give him time," Bruce chuckled, leaning down to press a quick, affectionate kiss to Thor's temple. "He's still getting used to the layout."