Righto, let's do this guys. Here's how Interludes is gonna work.

It's a nice easy gathering of a bunch of stories following Quiet Poetry, dealing with a number of issues. Each 'chapter' is basically a different short story of their life. Some of these will overlap, some of them won't; I'm going to try to post them chronologically but that might not always happen. When and where stories overlap, I'll point it out in an A/N at the beginning of the chapter. Ratings, characters, and all of that is going to vary wildly as we go, so I've set the fic to M since I know several stories will require it. All warnings will go at the top of each chapter, and will apply only to that story.

It really is just a bunch of interludes, so I can show you how I'd think they'd work until I feel ready/comfortable with starting the final major fic of the series, Sonnets of the Portuguese-and it's going to have a similar over-arching story like Quiet Poetry did.

Interludes is going to end up getting characterized by three basic periods of time; when it becomes relevant, I'll mention that again. For now, we're in the space a month or so after Steve's birthday.

Anyway.

THIS story has some illness in it. Nothing major. I'm opening Interludes with it because I think it's going to be a nice tone setter-we'll still have the occasional silly, and boy is the fluff fluffy, but not all of it is rainbows anymore. If it ever was.

I've got at least one other 'chapter' I'm going to post today, possibly a second, so hang tight ya'll.

Just a Fever

Loki is late to lunch.

Steve checks his watch again. Then he checks his calendar just to make sure he doesn't have the time wrong. He tries calling but Loki doesn't pick up.

He frowns and drums his fingers on the counter.

Loki is never late. For supposedly having been the god of chaos, Steve has never actually met anyone more rigidly scheduled, planned, and organized than Loki outside of the military. He hesitates, then decides to wait a bit longer-give Loki time to call back if he's in the middle of something else and lost track.

Thirty minutes later, Loki calls.

"Loki," he says, relieved. "Is everything okay?"

"Fine. I fell asleep." Loki's voice is raspy, brittle, and angry. It doesn't reassure him in the slightest. "I apologize. Is dinner acceptable?"

"Yeah. That's great. Are you sure everything is alright? You sound a little off."

"Yes. I will see you later. My place."

"Right. Love you."

Loki hums and hangs up. Steve frowns at his phone and debates calling Olek to see if he's noticed anything.

No. No. Loki said he's fine. Steve will believe him.

He fixes himself a quick lunch and is cleaning up in the kitchen when he realizes they never decided a time for dinner. He sends Loki a text, which he still hasn't gotten a response to nearly two hours later. He calls and leaves a message.

Seven should be ok, seven is usually when they do dinner on Wednesdays if they will do dinner together. But when Loki still hasn't responded around five he sends another text, just to make sure. It's so unlike Loki to not reply.

XXXXXX

Loki's temper is well worth the title. It flares bright, is vicious, and often ends with a few broken things.

Steve hates it.

Hates the self-loathing it just barely stretches over, hates that Loki uses it to hide that he's upset about something, that Loki must be baited in order to reveal what's wrong in the first place. Hates how all Loki seems to want to do is pick fights when he's irritated.

Steve isn't sure if it's an Asgard thing, a Loki thing, or both. Thor certainly doesn't seem to do it, but Thor also never talks about his emotions really and rarely grows angry at Steve.

The one thing he can appreciate is Loki's temper means Loki is also willing to eventually claw his way out of whatever has him depressed, even if it takes a little prodding.

XXXXXX

He gets to Loki's a bit before seven (because he always likes to be a little early). When he knocks, there isn't an answer. He waits a few minutes before he knocks again.

(He hesitates to use the spare key, even with the light on; he still remembers the distress in Loki's eyes from when he left the roses, though Loki never said anything about it.)

But he's left a few messages and Loki did ask him to stop by in the first place.

The apartment is utterly still.

"Loki?"

The studio door is closed and the bedroom light is off; he goes to the kitchen. It looks empty, the tea kettle set out, tea and honey next to it on the counter. There's a broken mug-not thrown, this one looks like it was knocked over-with water still slightly steaming and all over the floor. For a second, Steve is afraid that Natasha lied about making sure SHIELD doesn't get involved.

There's the slightest rustle of fabric from the side of the counter Steve can't see.

"Loki?" he says again softly and rounds the counter.

The other man is in the floor, his back pressed against the cabinets, arms wrapped tight around his legs, head bowed against his knees. His hair, usually kept so neat, is in total disarray; one sleeve is soaked in spilled water. Steve crouches down next to him and braces for the faceful of temper he's going to get for seeing Loki like this.

"Hey," he says.

Loki flinches and draws further into himself.

"You okay? What happened?"

"Useless." Muffled, voice dark. But no anger-just wet and rasping and despair. "Cannot even make tea. Useless. Stupid. I do not know."

"What don't you know?" He keeps his voice calm; inside, he's trying to figure out what is going on. Loki simply does not mope. Ever. Not like this. Steve is sure that in a moment Loki will snap, that the temper will flare up, and he'll need to edge his way to what's wrong without losing his own temper in the process.

"What's wrong," Loki sobs, shoulders shaking, and Steve knows right then there is no anger left. "I do not know what I did or what has happened, but I feel awful, everything hurts, everything, and my throat aches, and I am always cold and tired and I do not know why."

Steve blinks.

"Hey, it's okay. Look at me."

"Why?" Loki despairs. "I am pathetic."

"Come on, Loki. Look at me for a second, let me see. How long have you felt this way?" He rubs one of Loki's arms.

"A few days now. I do not know." Loki looks up; his nose is running and eyes a bit red, but Steve puts that down to the crying. He presses the back of his hand to Loki's forehead-burning hot. A fever. Just a fever. Nothing to worry about and as Steve looks at Loki he doesn't understand whyLoki is so upset over something so common. He'd had his fair share of colds before the serum. For that matter, Steve is a bit surprised Loki can even get sick, what with the whole-

Oh.

Right.

Former deity, but now human, oh so human and frail. Steve feels his breath suddenly vanish, everything around him fading to white noise as he looks at Loki, Loki who can get sick and a million other things all so easily.

Something of it must show on his face; Loki sobs again and presses his face back to his knees. Steve shoves his panic aside, tries to treat this like combat. He needs a plan of attack.

Convince Loki this is not the end of the world.

Shower or bath.

Soup.

Bed.

He can worry about his own realization and terror later. Loki has never been sick before, probably well... no definitelyhas no idea what is going on, likely never even realized that sickness is a thing, and all that stacked atop fatigue and a muddled head.

"Loki, love, it's okay. You're going to be okay. Look at me, look at me, Loki, love, sshhh, it's okay." He runs a hand through Loki's hair, rubs the back of his neck gently. "Nothing to worry about. Promise. You just have a fever. Come on, let's get you a shower and bed. Come on."

Steve helps Loki up, guides him to the bathroom, makes sure he wants a shower and not a bath. Shower started, he goes back to the kitchen and cleans up the mess. Out of the cabinets and fridge he pulls the things he needs to make soup and once it's diced and the vegetables are beginning to colour in the pot he goes back to check on Loki. Loki's in the shower floor, eyes dazed, but not crying any longer and once Steve is sure he won't break down or fall asleep, he goes back to the kitchen, adds the broth, swirls it once, and then sets the whole thing on low to simmer to completion.

He grabs Loki's favourite pajama pants from the bedroom. Once Loki's comfortable and in bed, he lays down with him, face to face. Their legs are tangled together, blankets pulled around their shoulders, and Steve runs his hand through Loki's hair before moving down to gently rub his neck and shoulders. Loki's breath is fever hot against his lips, but Steve stays where he is, their foreheads pressed together.

"I am dying," Loki finally says, voice flat and dull.

"No," Steve says firmly.

"Your face suggested otherwise."

Steve huffs a sigh.

"You aren't dying. Just forgot you can get sick."

"Sick," and it's a half-question as much as it is an echo.

"Yes. You aren't dying. You're going to be okay. You have a cold, that's all. Fever, fatigue, sore throat, probably a headache. I bet you've been just trying to plow through and tiring yourself out more, so you haven't been able to get better." Steve rubs a string of half-moons in Loki's skin. "You'll be okay. You just need a bit of rest."

"Rest. And this is...?"

"Perfectly normal. Not dying. Very human." Steve swallows at the reminder. "So stop worrying. We'll go to a doctor tomorrow to make sure you don't need any medication. I set some soup on. My mom used to make it, perk you right up. Relax." He brushes a bit of damp hair out of Loki's face.

"I see," Loki murmurs, eyes sliding closed the rest of the way. "Human. Sick."

"You'll be okay. Day or two and you'll feel right as rain."

Loki nods slightly.

"I love you," Steve whispers.

"And I you," Loki mumbles, eyes closed. It only takes a few more minutes before he's sleeping exhausted. Steve eases out from underneath the blankets and tucks them more firmly around Loki. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he strokes Loki's hair, runs a hand over his back.

He has never been so terrified by illness, not even when he had every health problem imaginable and barely weighed ninety pounds.

It's so easy to forget how fragile Loki is now, so easy to forget because Loki certainly never acts as if he is. And here, another reminder-that Loki knows so very littleabout being human and all that entails.

Things will be okay. He knows this. Colds are so common, he survived his fair share of them even with all his issues, this is nothing worth worrying over.

(But he forgotand what if he forgets again, when it is something worse?)

(Forgets that Loki cannot survive more than the average person anymore.)

(He doesn't want to lose anyone else ever again.)

Steve leans down and presses a kiss to the side of Loki's head, swallows back any tears he might shed, and leaves to check on the soup.