A month of fun and friendship with Loki passed. He was on house arrest until he proved his changed heart, or something silly like that. So he spent a lot of time keeping you company while everyone was out on missions and such. You were supposed to be babysitting each other. This was a terrible plan as you both came up with childish pranks to play on the others when you were bored.

Thor was pleased with the development. The rest of the team was wary at best. Tony was downright hostile over your friendship, but it was a friendship, and Loki wasn't doing anything harmful to anyone, so Cap and the others made him be nice.

One evening, all of the team came back horribly injured. Clint was shot twice, which you proceeded to yell at him for, even after he'd taken his hearing aids out to avoid lectures. He looked impressed as you signed your anger at him.

"There's my Black Sabbath shirt!" Tony exclaimed when he saw your pajamas, which you had been wearing while watching a movie with Loki that evening.

"This?" you asked innocently. "It just appeared in my laundry one day." It was a tried and true excuse. Tony glared, but everyone laughed.

"Make sure it reappears back in my laundry," he finally growled. You laughed and agreed while healing the damage he'd somehow sustained even in the ironman suit.

It took forever to heal everyone and cost a lot more power than you were willing to admit. Thor looked concerned when everyone was healed and making their way to devour all of the food in the kitchen. You didn't want them to know how much that had drained you. You were still scared that they would ditch you if you weren't useful enough to them. You waved off Thor's concern and made your way, shakily admittedly, back to your spot on the couch.

"Lady Y/N, are you sure you would not prefer to go to bed?" Thor asked, concerned. "I will gladly escort you," he offered. He knew you were weaker than you wanted to admit.

"Loki and I were watching a movie. I'd like to finish it," you answered him with a smile. He somehow left you alone, maybe actually trusting Loki for once. You sat on your side of the couch wrapped in a throw blanket and pretended to pay attention to the movie while the others ate. It didn't take long for the others to file off once the food was gone to go to their own pursuits.

Loki picked up the remote and paused the movie once they had all left. "I understand that you wish to hide any sign of weakness from the others, but being tired after the amount of healing you just did is not weak. Allow me to escort you to bed, witchling," he bid you softly once the two of you were alone again. You looked over at him confused.

"I'm fine," you protested, though exhaustion was in your bones and if you sat still for much longer you were going to fall asleep. Or pass out. It was hard to be sure.

He just gave you a look and you looked away, unable to meet his gaze. You knew that stubborn look well, and knew he had somehow caught you in the fib. "Your magic is Asgardian, little witch. I know perfectly well exactly how much power you had to use to heal all of those ungrateful oafs, and exactly the result of overtaxing your abilities,"

"Asgardian?" you asked, trying to distract him from being overly concerned and over protective.

He nodded. "I should have told you sooner, I admit, though so should my idiot brother. One of your parents had to have been one of our kind for your magic to be so strong. I recognized your magic as Asgardian the first time I saw you use it." The night you had met and you healed a cut on his face. You just stared up at him, not really able to believe that you weren't entirely human.

"You don't know who-?" he shook his head.

"I would tell you if I did," he promised.

"Can we finish the movie first?" you asked. That was supposed to be the fun of the evening. He sighed.

"Very well," he relented and turned the movie back on. He didn't say anything when you moved closer to him on the couch and pretended not to notice when you eventually cuddled up against him. He silently wrapped an arm around you while you laid your head on his chest. You told yourself that it was perfectly fine because you were friends and there was nothing romantic going on at all.

You were a liar. A dirty rotten liar who couldn't admit her feelings and you were too afraid of rejection to tell them to Loki even if you had admitted them to yourself.

You vaguely heard an exasperated sigh a while later or at least thought you had heard it, but didn't bother opening your eyes. Apparently your eyes had closed, they weren't reopening either. Oops. "Stubborn little witchling. I did warn you that you had overtaxed yourself," Loki sighed in a tone that would have been described as loving exasperation had you been in a romantic relationship, which you very very firmly were not. You were a dirty rotten liar to yourself at times. You barely stirred as he rose from the couch, though made a small noise when he picked you up in his arms, cradling you to his cool chest, your head resting on his shoulder. "Shh, you're safe," he cooed, soothing you back to sleep, or was it unconsciousness? You couldn't quite be sure. You were vaguely aware of him carrying you as if you weighed nothing, of being tucked into your own bed.

And was that a kiss on your forehead?