My War Is Over (Original Unfinished Version)

Chapter Fifteen

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Bruce knows that Loki isn't exactly human. But with the combination of blood loss, malnourishment, fatigue, and still-healing previous injuries he's astonished that Loki is still attempting to fight them off. Hell, he's amazed Loki is even still conscious, god or not.

The raven-haired man is still kicking out weakly as Thor lays him down on the stark-white medical bed, throwing loosely-clenched, blind punches in every direction and still screaming. His voice is hoarse and rough with tears, begging for death in a way that has even Bruce's stoic that-kind-of-doctor mode trembling slightly. But he can't think about that right now. He can't let himself dwell upon what could have possibly driven the frail man to such thoughts or worry about what they could have done differently. Loki's struggles are growing weaker by the minute. They're running out of time.

Bruce whirls around to grab the heartrate monitor behind him and slams right into a grey-faced Clint. Surveying the room briefly, he notices each and every Avenger circling the bed around Loki, crowding them and blocking Bruce from doing his job.

"Everyone out." Bruce barks, his tone leaving no room for arguments save for Tony and Thor.

"You said I could help!"

"He is my brother!"

Bruce counts to ten as he fiddles with the heart rate monitor and attaches the leads to Loki's chest, blocking his feeble attempts to fight him off.

"Tony, yes, I need you. Get me a Green-Alert sedative. Thor, I will let you stay in here if you keep out of my way. Loki is dying and I need the fucking room. Everyone else, get out." Bruce growls. Tony appears at his side with a syringe of clear liquid, moving to hold down Loki's arm as instructed while Bruce injects the sedative into a vein. Tony looks up to Thor briefly, who has stepped back closer to the door, his face a pale shade of sickly green as he watches Loki's movements begin to slow down, the frantic wailing of the heart rate monitor along with them.

"You might not wanna see this buddy," Tony's voice has an odd edge to it, "but there's a bathroom to your left for when you need to puke."

With Loki now limp on the bed, Bruce moves a light over his limp body and actually begins to examine his mangled wrists; as quickly as he can.

He'd known what he was doing.

There are multiple slashes, reckless-looking and deep enough to require some stitches, but they look like child's play compared to the large gashes over the veins on each of his wrists. He'd cut the skin open and went straight for the veins.

"We need to put a tourniquet on each of his upper arms. I'm going to tie it very tight to slow the bleeding. JARVIS, I need you to set a repeating twenty-minute timer. Tony, each time that JARVIS gives the signal that the timer has gone off I need you to loosen the tourniquets."

"Certainly, Sir." JARVIS's voice came from the ceiling while Tony nods.

"Right," Bruce murmurs, readying a tray of tools beside him, "fuck, okay that sedative stopped him from struggling but somehow he's still awake. I need to give him some anesthetic. This is gonna hurt otherwise."

"Right, let's get him some Propofol or something," Tony mutters, disappearing for a few seconds as Bruce slides on a pair of gloves.

"Here," Tony is back, handing Bruce a full vial of opaque white liquid, "There's 40mg in there."

"Might need more, he's not human after all," Bruce frowns as he injects the anesthesia into Loki's arm. Loki inches his head to the side, his eyelids going droopy but not quite falling under. Bruce waits a few minutes, cleaning the medical utensils on the tray as he keeps a close eye on the heart rate monitor. Tony brushes some of the sweaty hair away from Loki's face.