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When Everything's Made to be Broken - Chapter 28: A Piece of American Dream

Summary: Theo gets a surprise while working in the Emergency Department.

Contents: Some blood and medical stuff, nothing overtly graphic though (still, cw for blood, needles, injuries). Lots of the idiots being idiots (affectionate).

Word Count: 3,708

When Everything's Made to Be Broken Series (Archive of Our Own) | When Everything's Made to be Broken Masterlist (Tumblr)

A Piece of American Dream

Song: Desperate Measures - Marianas Trench

Have a piece of American Dream Open up and swallow on your knees And say thank you, I’d like Some desperate measures please

By any measure, it started off as a normal Tuesday night.

The Emergency Department was bustling; brisk, but manageable. Fluorescents buzzed overhead, machines beeped in steady rhythm, and the scent of antiseptic clung to Theo’s scrubs like campfire smoke. Her body ached in a way that only three back-to-back shifts, two press appearances, and one all-nighter to promote a new club opening within the span of a week could produce.

She didn’t even glance at the name on the tablet when she was handed her next patient, just skimmed the vitals: elevated heart rate, mild hypotension, and the words: Stab wound, LUQ.

Classic.

She opened the door and pulled back the curtain, ready to introduce herself and begin treatment.

“Hi, I’m—Jesus Christ, what happened to you?”

Theo froze, gawking at the sight before her.

Sitting on the examination table was Loki, dressed in his armor; not that she could easily tell, however, because it was covered with dried blood.

No, not just covered—it was like he took a swim in it…

… And that was coming from someone who saw absurd amounts of blood and gore on a daily basis.

Despite looking like he just escaped the Texas Chainsaw Massacre, Loki lounged on the gurney like it was a poolside chaise, legs crossed at his ankles as his attention went studying from a poster on the wall to Theo, acting as if he was just paying her a visit like any other day.

“You have a God before you, there is no need to call upon the one whom some Midgardians believe to be a deity,” he smirked, sitting up and squaring his shoulders toward Theo.

“Funny… From here it looks like a god got his ass kicked,” Theo shot back, trying to tamp down the flicker of concern in her chest as she approached.

Loki’s posture was deceptively casual: one hand braced behind him, the other cradling his left side where the injury undoubtedly lay hidden beneath armor and bravado.

“We ran into… unforeseen resistance. I assure you, it’s nothing.”

“Hm, I’m going to disagree with that, given you are absolutely soaked in blood, not to mention that the reason for your visit is listed as—” Theo glanced down at the tablet for good measure, “—stab wound in left upper abdomen. Seriously, are you trying to give me a heart attack?”

“You’ve heard the tales,” Loki offered a nonplussed shrug. “A stabbing is hardly noteworthy for me.”

Theo arched a brow and checked the chart again. “A stab wound isn’t ‘nothing,’ even for you. Left upper quadrant – that’s just above where you got stabbed last time, isn’t it?” She squinted at him. “You do remember what happened the last time you got hurt and insisted you were fine?”

Loki rolled his eyes skyward. “Ah yes, a week in the infirmary and nearly a fortnight of Thor torturing me under the guise of monitoring my recovery?”

“Would you like to go through that again?”

He gave a rueful smile, but didn’t argue.

Theo sighed, tapping her tablet with exaggerated precision. “First mission back after getting benched for weeks… I should have figured you’d make it dramatic.”

Loki tilted his head, unbothered. “I prefer the term glorious return to form.”

“You got stabbed in the abdomen,” she deadpanned, “By that logic, a dumpster fire is also a glorious return to warmth.”

“Your bedside manner is as sharp as ever,” Loki remarked, though he gave her a wounded look.

“Well, someone’s gotta keep your ego in check,” Theo said, reaching for the antiseptic. “Frankly, I’m surprised you didn’t come in riding a Pegasus and demanding a parade.”

“There was a parade,” he replied, entirely too serious. “It just happened to be a Hydra ambush. They threw grenades instead of confetti.”

Theo paused mid-reach, giving him a scowl that barely masked the amused twitch at the corner of her mouth. “Right… Festive.”

“It was quite the spectacle,” He agreed, a certain smugness in his voice, “Though it pales in grandeur when compared to our response.”

She snorted despite herself, rolling her eyes. “Let me guess: ‘you should see the other guy?’”

Without waiting for an answer, she turned back to the cabinets, rummaging through drawers for gauze, saline, and sterile pads, each movement brisk and practiced to the point of muscle memory.

“Alas, nothing to see—the operatives were efficiently eliminated,” Loki said with a theatrical shrug, eyes drifting past Theo toward something beyond the glass door. His lips curled in idle amusement. “Though now that I’m here, there is something else worth seeing.”

“Oh really?” Theo muttered, only half-listening as she crouched down to dig through the back of a cabinet, hunting for a specific type of suture needle.

“Indeed,” he drawled. “It seems the Falcon is providing live entertainment while I wait for you to confirm what I already know: that I am in no need of medical attention.”

She didn’t even look up. “If that’s true, then explain a few things for me...”

“Such as…?”

“—One,” she said, holding up a gloved finger, “why did you come in at all? Two, why does my intake form say you’ve got a stab wound? And three…” She turned, finally fixing him with a pointed stare. “Why are you clutching your side like it’s about to fall off?”

Loki blinked, then smoothly withdrew his hand from his side, all nonchalance.

“Ah,” he said. “A minor... artistic difference in opinion between me and the knife.”

“You’re bleeding through your shirt,” Theo scoffed, “not submitting a painting to the Met…”

The smirk Loki gave her in response should have been criminal.

“... But whatever, better safe than sorry,” Theo sighed, her focus already shifting back to gathering supplies. She grabbed a pack of swabs and a second bottle of antiseptic. “Besides, I’d rather not have you go into shock on me…Again...” She tore open the seal with a flick. “So, what’s this ‘entertainment’ you mentioned?”

Loki gestured lazily toward the hallway, reclining just enough to seem bored—but the glint in his eyes gave him away. “The Falcon is currently engaged in what appears to be a romantic overture.”

Theo paused, one hand still in the supply cabinet. “To who?”

“Your colleague,” Loki said. “Dr. Harper? He brought her coffee from that Dunkin’ place she adores.”

Theo leapt to her feet and whipped around so fast she smacked the edge of the tray, sending a chorus of metal instruments clattering across the floor like a symphony of alarm bells. She froze, wide-eyed, heart thundering in her chest, already bracing for the entire ED to turn and gawk at the disaster she’d just made.

“Norns,” Loki snorted from behind her, utterly unbothered, “You are subtle as a brick wall.”

To her surprise, no one seemed to notice much—maybe a side glance or two, but the usual chaos of the emergency department swallowed the sound. No one stared. Most importantly, neither Sam nor Julie looked their way.

“Shut up,” Theo hissed, cheeks flushed as she waved her hand in a practiced arc. A soft shimmer of magic whisked the fallen tools back into place, and a second shimmer sterilized them once more. “I had to see if it was who I hoped he was flirting with.”

“And?” Loki prompted, brow arched with unholy delight.

Theo pointed a still-sealed suture needle at him like a dagger. “You breathe a word of this to anyone and I will make you regret being born...”

“Terrifying,” Loki murmured, though his smile only deepened.

Theo rolled her eyes, returning to her task—preparing to clean away the dried blood on his side with firm, clinical efficiency. “But yes,” she added under her breath, “it is.”

“I presume Dr. Harper finds the Falcon attractive?”

“She once called his ass a national treasure,” Theo chuckled and nodded. “I think we’ve spent more hours discussing her crush on Sam than reviewing actual trauma cases.”

“Well, based on my observations, she seems appropriately flattered and flustered by his advances.”

Theo glanced up to find Loki watching her with a spark of amusement in his eyes. “Tell me if she makes a fool of herself.”

“I shall monitor the situation with great discretion,” Loki said solemnly.

“You’re not capable of discretion.”

“Untrue,” Loki said, his voice silky. “I’m simply selective with my discretion.”

“That might actually be worse,” Theo chuckled, shaking her head as she moved the tray of supplies next to the gurney. “Alright—armor off. I need to give you the once-over and clean that wound before you start bleeding on my floor again.”

Loki arched an eyebrow, feigning offense. “And deprive you of the thrill of discovery?”

“Might I remind you that you came to me for medical treatment?” Theo leveled a glare at him. “I know you’ve got at least one stab wound under there, probably more. I can’t treat what I can’t see—unless you’d rather I take scissors to your very expensive Asgardian leather?”

She held up the trauma shears for effect, then set a hospital gown on the gurney beside him. “I’ll give you a minute to change. Gown goes on, underwear stays on. Please be an adult about it.”

Loki tilted his head, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Darling, if you were looking for an excuse to get me out of my clothes, you could’ve just said so. No need for theatrics.”

Theo glared at him. “Remove. The. Armor,” she said through gritted teeth, “or I swear I will cut it off. And I won’t be gentle about it.”

“Such cruelty…” He placed a hand over his heart in mock offense. “And here I was, under the impression we shared a bond.”

“Loki—” Theo warned, her tone caught somewhere between a laugh and a whine.

But he was already moving on, completely unfazed. With a lazy flick of his fingers and a shimmer of green, his armor vanished, leaving him in nothing but a pair of impeccably fitted black boxer briefs.

He spread his arms in a grand, sweeping gesture and dipped his head in an exaggerated bow. “I present myself for your professional evaluation, Doctor Amaris. Do try to remain composed.”

Theo groaned. “Why are you like this?”

“It’s part of my charm,” Loki said, grinning.

She rolled her eyes but stepped closer, already reaching for the antiseptic. “Hold still, Prince Charming, or I will find somewhere less pleasant to disinfect first.”

Loki smirked but obeyed, and Theo did her best to redirect her focus to the task at hand. Which—unfortunately—was not easy, given that said task involved him sitting half-naked in front of her like some dark mythological statue brought to life.

She’d seen gods before—different pantheon, sure, but same divine energy—and while many of them had been objectively beautiful, none had ever struck her as her type.

But Loki?

Loki was something else entirely.

His torso looked like it had been sculpted from marble under moonlight by Michaelangelo himself—cut in the kind of elegant, restrained definition that suggested power without excess. There was a deliberate grace to him; the long, lean muscle was a refreshing departure from the bulked-up SHIELD agents and the walking mountains that made up most of the Avengers roster.

And then there were the scars.

Dozens of them, fine and jagged, littered his pale skin like a map only he could read. They should’ve looked brutal, but instead they lent him a kind of impossible beauty—stories etched in flesh, half-invitations and half-warnings. One in particular, just to the right of his sternum, drew her eye and held it. Whatever blade or beast had left that behind hadn’t gone down without a fight.

Theo clenched her jaw, willing her hands to stay clinical, professional, still. The urge to trace that scar with her fingertips, to ask how he’d earned it, flickered somewhere dangerous behind her ribs.

It was probably a good thing Julie was still preoccupied with Sam; if she saw Theo elbow-deep in an exam with a shirtless Loki, there would be no living it down… Not for weeks, or possibly ever.

Shortly after Theo began the requisite poking and prodding—and no more, thank you, because she was a professional and absolutely not about to give Loki the satisfaction of turning into a flustered, drooling mess over a half-naked god reclining like a smug sculpture—he spoke again.

“So,” he drawled, tone casual but eyes sharp, “how has Midgard fared in my absence?”

“Well, it’s still standing,” Theo replied, keeping her attention fixed on the developing bruise along his ribs. “So I’d say: remarkably well.”

“And you?” Loki’s voice softened, just a touch. “How have you fared?”

“Oh, you know… Living the dream.” She answered, sarcasm tinging her voice. She moved on to assess the stab wound, gently pressing around the edges to check the swelling, depth, and any residual bleeding. “Full-time hospital work, full-time avenging, occasional public service announcements, plus the full ‘girl squad rebrand’ arc while trying not to drown in tabloid garbage. Keeps me busy, I guess.”

“The mortals have changed their tune in my absence, have they?” Loki mused, eyebrow arched.

Theo scoffed. “Pretty sure Chris’s publicist is trying to turn me into a fame-chasing club rat. Now that he’s single again, the gossip rags want to paint me as some desperate ex trying to crash every event he might be at.”

“Well,” Loki said, tilting his head, “it is fortunate I’ve returned, so we might put such rumors properly to bed.”

Theo rolled her eyes, but the corner of her mouth twitched. “I might have something up my sleeve...”

“Do tell…”

“While you were off gallivanting through the Nine Realms,” she said, reaching for fresh gauze, “I was approached about joining an initiative focused on protecting and advocating for healthcare workers—the Vital Signs Initiative.”

His brow lifted, intrigued.

“I said yes, obviously. Got the Stark Foundation and the hospital to back it. I’m going on a late-night show the week after the fundraiser to announce it, and if they try to steer the interview toward my love life—which they will—I’ve got a few tricks planned to bring it back to the actual story.”

“Ah,” Loki nodded slowly, a sly smile tugging at his lips. “Playing their game now, are we?”

“Unfortunately,” Theo sighed. “And I blame you, for the record. Once you taught me how to manage a narrative, it got a whole lot harder to sit back and let someone else write mine for me.”

“I merely introduced you to strategy,” he replied with mock innocence. “I didn’t expect you to become its reigning monarch.”

“Yeah, yeah, very chivalrous of you,” she replied dryly. “If I have to do one more red carpet interview where someone asks whether I’m trading medicine for influencer status, I swear I’ll—”

She cut herself off with a sharp breath and stood abruptly, wiping her hands on a sterile cloth. “—I need to irrigate the wound; clean it out.”

Loki quirked a brow. “Did they not once crown you a workaholic?”

“They did,” Theo muttered, pulling off her gloves with a little more snap than necessary. She crossed to the counter to prepare fresh supplies, and found a basin to catch the excess saline. “A month ago I was too cold, too calculating, too clinical to be relatable. Now I’m reckless, fame-hungry, a loose cannon with a penchant for drama.”

She tugged on a new pair of gloves with a sharp flick. “It’s like—no matter what I do, I’m doing it wrong.”

Loki watched her for a long moment, something unreadable in his gaze.

“And yet,” he said, quietly, “you remain the only person in this room who seems to know exactly what she’s doing.”

Theo looked up—just briefly—but her expression shifted for just a moment. Then, she cleared her throat and returned to her work.

“Flattery won’t get you out of a tetanus booster,” she said.

“Noted,” Loki’s smile softened, but a trace of something else lingered. “Still worth the attempt.”

After a lull in conversation, only broken by Theo warning Loki that the saline might be cold and it would probably sting, she carefully positioned the syringe, gently pressing the plunger so saline could flush out the wound, flowing into a carefully positioned basin below.

Only after she knew with full certainty the wound was clean, Theo examined the wound once more, then straightened, drawing a steadying breath.

“The good news is that only the wound on your side needs closing,” she explained, “Normally, I’d go ahead with sutures, but today I’m feeling generous—I’ll seal it with a bit of magic.”

Loki’s eyes narrowed, skepticism clear in his expression. “Are you certain this is a wise use of your abilities?”

Theo shrugged, unfazed. “It’s a relatively small wound—won’t take much. Besides, unlike you, I haven’t been out in the field recently; I’m nowhere near my limit. You’ll still need the booster shot, though.”

He smirked, but the edge of doubt lingered. “How magnanimous of you to grace me with your magic.”

She pressed gently on his shoulders, guiding him to lie back fully. “Honestly, I’m not thrilled you came back injured and pretending otherwise. Maybe this is my way of making sure you stop hiding your wounds.”

And maybe, quietly, proving to Loki she could heal without pushing herself too far.

“Alright, this will be a little uncomfortable, I presume?” Loki’s voice cut through the silence with a teasing edge.

Theo glanced up, already preparing. “It’ll sting a bit, but it’ll be quick.”

He cocked an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. “I can’t imagine it being more uncomfortable than sitting here with a gash in my side.”

“You’re the one who insisted nothing was wrong,” Theo shot back, rolling her eyes but unable to hide the smile tugging at her mouth. “Maybe I should make you sit through being stitched up instead—I don’t want to reward reckless behavior. You’re lucky I like you.”

Cracking her knuckles, she lifted her hands just above the injury. A faint glow traced delicate runes down her forearms, swirling and ebbing and flowing, like liquid as the magic flowed from her skin into his. Eyes closed, Theo visualized each tendril of energy weaving beneath his skin, knitting the wound closed with quiet precision.

When the last thread sealed shut, she exhaled softly and dispelled the glowing runes. Her gaze flicked up—and caught Loki watching her, something warm and unguarded shimmering in his seaglass eyes. Her cheeks flushed, and she quickly looked away.

“Voila,” Her fingers trailed lightly along the now-smooth skin, lingering a moment longer than necessary. A small, satisfied smile curved her lips. “Good as new.”

Beneath her touch, Loki shivered. He propped himself up on his elbows, eyes tracing the spot where the wound had been.

“I thank you for your services,” he said, voice low, gaze lingering where her gloved finger tips had met his skin. “If only all healers had such an enchanting touch, perhaps I wouldn’t be so quick to neglect even minor injuries.”

Theo barely choked back a laugh. “Minor? You had a stab wound—in your abdomen, where all your vital organs are. If you were any other patient, I’d have admitted you without hesitation.”

Loki shifted from his elbows to sit upright, his height suddenly towering over Theo thanks to the height of the gurney. He shot her a teasing grin, wiggling his eyebrows. “Ah, but you held back because you know I am no mere mortal.”

“Yeah, yeah—you're a god, and I should be worshiping you like you’re the best thing since sliced bread,” Theo drawled, turning away to peel off her gloves and toss them in the bin. “Last I checked, I’m the one patching you up, so maybe you should be worshipping me… if that’s a thing you Norse gods do.” She punctuated the remark with a sharp wink.

“It would be folly to assume gods lack the capacity for worship, darling; we do it like no other,” Loki’s smirk deepened, eyes darkening. “Perhaps I should show you sometime.”

“Not while I’m on the clock, buddy.” Theo’s cheeks flamed, but she kept her voice firm. “In the meantime, go be mischievous and spy on Sam and Julie. I have a bet with Marcos about how long it’ll take those two to finally get together, and I want any intel you can find—just in case I need to adjust my wager.”

A flicker of something unreadable crossed Loki’s face, but it vanished almost instantly, replaced by that obnoxiously cocky grin. “Say no more, darling. I shall investigate.”

He hopped off the table, and in a blink, was dressed in black joggers and a forest green zip-up sweatshirt, unzipped just enough to reveal a gray t-shirt underneath. He strolled toward the door, then paused before crossing the threshold. With a dramatic spin, he faced her again.

“In the meantime, I suggest you prepare for all the ways you might extol my virtues—since I’ll require your devotion when I return with my discoveries, thus aiding your endeavor. And speaking of devotion…” He leaned in slightly, eyes twinkling. “How about dinner after your shift? Takeaway, my treat. A chance to celebrate my miraculous survival and your undeniably enchanting healing skills.”

Theo couldn’t help but smile. “Only if it’s pad thai.”

“I already placed the order,” Loki said smoothly. “From the little place on 8th you like—medium spice, extra lime.”

Theo blinked a few times, surprised at how he already knew what she wanted. “You’re such a dork.”

“Ah, but a thoughtful dork.”

“Ugh,” She gave him a playful shove toward the door. “Glad you’re fine, Lo, but I have other patients to tend to—bye!”

Loki feigned a scandalized gasp, but the grin he flashed on his way out made it very clear he wasn’t wounded in the slightest.

As the door clicked shut behind him, Theo finally exhaled, only just realizing how long she’d been holding her breath.

And then it hit her:

Sneaky bastard never got the tetanus shot.

Shaking her head, she finished cleaning up, then asked Marcos to call Loki back in so he’d get his shot. But as she moved to the next patient, it was harder to focus with the way her heart was doing somersaults…

… Since when was she so flustered by Loki?

For a first effort this feels kinda last ditch I guess this just got kinda drastic Trust us, you just fell off the bus, sucker Yeah, well, payback is a motherfucker I can’t let this, I can’t let this go... I can't let this, I can't let this...

Author's Note: Hi! We’re back. I think the new game is how slow can I make this slow burn? 😂 I’m kidding (mostly), but I did have to split this song into 4 chapters instead of 3 though, because there was so much in it that it was getting a bit ridiculous… Essentially the two chapters after this cover the rest of the lead up to the fundraiser, and then the chapter after that is the fundraiser itself! I’m excited to share them with you, but not dropping chapters early since I have a nice backlog stored up for when things get busy and I don’t have as much time to work on the fic as I’d like… Fun fact: the forgetting to get a tetanus shot is a thing I actually did once – a couple years ago I had to get stitches (cut myself removing zip ties from a temporary fence during tear down after a work event), but was so distracted chatting with the doctor and then the nurse that they forgot to do it, and then I got a call on my way home that I had to go back and get poked. It was at urgent care, though, not an emergency department. 😅 Also, K made a fancast of the doctors in this fic and I am *living* for it. She also gets a shoutout because I hadn’t named the hospital in the fic, so she named it accordingly 😂 (we’re both fans of the Pitt, in case you can’t tell)

I feel like a broken record when I say this, but I truly appreciate and adore each and every one of you who gives this hyperfixation of mine the time of day. I love hearing your thoughts and appreciate the time taken to reblog/comment!! Thanks for sticking with me through all of this.

P.S. You may have noticed that I'm returning to full chapters under the cut instead of linking to AO3! I decided that it was a bit silly to be posting part on here and then directing people to AO3 when some people like reblogging from here. So, now it's back to being available in both places! Next update will be Sunday, July 6!

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