“do NOT call Thor.” Loki demanded, sounding dazed and shaken. He didn’t seam to be able to orient himself for a moment. He knew better than to do Big Magic in his state. It wouldn’t hurt him, or would it harm… anything else. But the sudden drain on his energy left him weak and disoriented. He had been afraid and he realized he’d had what the S.H.E.I.L.D. psychologist had called a panic attack. Or was it an anxiety attack? He didn’t know. The crowd, the lights, the yelling. It had reminded him too much of terrible things.<br/><br/>“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. I freaked out.” Loki admitted. “there where all these flashing lights and everyone was screaming and they where insulting Steph and they…” his voice went soft, timid. The same tone he’d use when speaking of his childhood ‘punishments’ which he always spoke on the most vague of references. “they where so angry…” he swallowed hard and then slowly managed to carefully sit up on his own. “i’m alright now… I think. I’m going to be weak for a bit… and dizzy.” he admitted. “could someone make me some tea maybe?” he asked hopefully. “standing up right now isn’t a good idea…” he admitted, blinking at them. He looked terrible. Like after his nightmares, dazed and a little lost and frightened of everything and everyone. “and a blanket? I’m cold...”