Normally, Anthony would have pulled himself out of bed and scampered off after Loki, but today, the look on Steven’s face caused him to hang back. He dressed and let himself get feeling back in his legs from the exhausting evening he’d had before he stopped just short of the taller Midgardian. “You look like you’re about to throw up. Do you want to sit?”

Anthony wasn’t good at this. He wasn’t good at all trying to be sympathetic, but Steven did his best when he was at his lowest and so he wanted to return the favor as best he could. He lightly touched one bracered forearm and tugged at him to sit on the sette at the bottom of Loki’s bed while Loki found himself having to duck or throw a shield up at the mess of the room that Thor was making.

Very few pieces of furniture were left undamaged. Loki wasn’t the only one with a destructive temper.

Seeing his brother, though, left Thor dismissing Mjolnir to sit down on what had once been a chair, heavy, defeated. “You must take on Steven. I can not give him to another.”