whose_son_am_i | Meme-shenanigans and Continuations.

"I do actually. It's something I picked up while doing my residency." It helps her to relax and to be able to focus even after a stressful surgery.

"Then you already have a good start." Loki replied confidently. "...I...can teach you. If you want to learn." It would be a step to repaying this debt. And he found that he wanted her to know, to be better guarded. A genuinely kind person was a truly rare treasure.

"But not tonight. I won't be very good company after our meal. I'm still tired, and plan to take advantage of your guest room. Not even to read."

"I want to learn." She nods.

"I wouldn't ask you to do much of anything tonight, you need a good meal and a long sleep." She will be in the next room in case anything goes wrong.

"Then tomorrow." Loki agreed, before applying himself more to his food. He found he was actually looking forward to the idea. Her interactions with him had been pleasant every time, and selfishly he wanted to keep it that way. It also gave him time to mull over just why he wanted to protect the rare treasure that was a truly kind person. Perhaps it was just because it was rare, and he did like his secrets and rarities.

If anything he'll do his part to keep conversation over the food light.

Dinner is pleasant, surprisingly so. He makes for nice company.

Once they are finished she does shoo him off to bed, she's his doctor still. She will clean up in the kitchen and then go to bed herself.

Christine makes it a few hours before a night terror has her waking in a cold sweat. Whenever she has such a dream she needs to get up for a little while to calm herself. She's quiet as she makes her way into the livingroom.

He had said he'd do his best to be a good houseguest. And he did have manners. Loki was a survivor, who had needed to adapt before--so he was adapting now. He hadn't argued either, only gathering up his armor and moving to find her guest room.

Nor was he so deeply asleep that someone moving around when he was in a strange place didn't wake him. Taking a moment to assess things after he woke up, and hearing someone trying to be quiet. Yes, it was probably his host--but in case it wasn't...

Hopefully Christine wouldn't be too scared by him. Pale and shirtless in the dark, a dagger in his hand and ready just in case.

She hears stirring movement, but it does give her a little fright when he appears down the hall. There's a quiet gasp then a sigh.

"Did I wake you?" Then the light catches the dagger, "is that a knife?"

Loki just gives her a slow-blink. Before flipping the dagger in his hand and holding it out to her. "It was likely you, but just in case..."

"Were you coming out to protect us?"

That's actually sort of nice, also self-serving, but nice.

"I had a nightmare."

"I may as well--you implied it yourself. You're a woman living alone in a dangerous city." A pause, before he took the dagger back and vanished it in a shimmer of greenish-yellow. "I've had to survive some very nasty places, and it tends to make one sleep lightly and armed."

A nightmare though... Loki wasn't really one for comfort.

"This building has good security. But thank you."

She's not looking for comfort, she's been dealing with her nightmares for years.

"You're welcome to say out here if you want. I always step away from the bed for a bit after a nightmare."

And Loki should just go straight back to bed. He's tired, he's still healing, and now that he's identified the source of the noise, then there's no more need to trouble himself. He'll still sleep lightly, but that's the thing--he needs to sleep.

He's about to turn around to go do just that, when his curiosity gets the better of him. Stupid curiosity. "What was it about?"

"One of the superhero fights in the city. The sheer amount of death and pain that came through my hospital that day."

Just how mangled some of the people had been, she still sees them sometimes. She's not going to sugar coat it for him, he asked. She's just telling him, simple and matter of fact.

Loki just blinked, before asking candidly. "The invasion?" He wouldn't be surprised, given his presence rather prominently and suddenly in her life.

"I think so. This sounds horrible, but it starts to blur together. Anytime there's some big fight in the city, I'm one of the people cleaning it up."

And that tends to be overlooked, all the other people around while Tony Stark smashes through some windows or whatever.

"Sounds like a thankless job." Loki crossed his arms, watching her again. "SO why do it? Why help people?" Because he was still puzzled by that. "I've been thinking about it and there's no clear benefit for you to do so."

"Sometimes it is." She shrugs. "Because I am able to. I invested my time in learning to save people, and maybe I'll save a future scientist or president. Or someone who has really wonderful kids."

She stretches her arms above her head.

"Not everything needs to directly benefit me."

"You might also just save another 'me'." Loki pointed out. "There's no guarantee it's worth it." Even if it didn't directly benefit her. "Why do you care?"

"Why do you not care?"

It's an even question. Sure there are benefits to not caring, more than there are to the opposite.

"Sentiment. It only gets you in trouble." Loki answered quickly, but said nothing more. He could be said to care, but only for a select few. Maybe it was just because he'd been hurt too many times.

"Yeah, it can. But what's the point in life, in fighting if there isn't someone worth fighting for?"

She's way more sentimental, even if she doesn't have a specific person in mind who she would fight for.

"You survive for yourself." It was a strange conversation to be having. Loki was reminded once again that he really should be going back to the guest room and sleeping. But he was still curious. "There are....precious few, I would consider fighting for." And apparently interested in seeing where this conversation would take them both.

"Self-preservation is a very basic need, and yes, I can understand that."

She feels like she's gained a little ground there.

"You're not heartless, just selective." And still shirtless lit by moonlight.

"If you'd lived my life, you would be too." He had pointed out that he had a heart earlier. He just guarded it carefully. "You leave yourself open to being hurt every day."

"I do. And I have been. Loving people, caring about people, it can be really painful."

She nods.

"You're very pale." That's her sleep addled brain thinking about his skin.

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