Get Help
Summary: Loki had invented the offensive tactic, but he doesn't like using it anymore. It brings up too many unpleasant memories, particularly the day he almost killed his older brother. One-shot. Slightly AU.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything related to Marvel or the Avengers…darn.
A/N: A little one-shot based off the origin of where Thor's and Loki's "get help" ruse comes from. I've only seen the movie once, so apologies if the dialogue is inaccurate. I change the ending of this scene too a bit.
"Let's do 'get help.'"
"No, I'd rather not."
"Oh, come on! I love 'get help.'"
Loki crosses his arms. "No."
Thor smiles mischievously against type and looks at Loki sideways. "We're doing 'get help.'"
Before the god of lies can protest any further, Thor is slinging one of Loki's arms around his broad shoulders, taking on the majority of the trickster's weight. Loki is forced to hang partially off his big brother. He shoots the god of thunder a murderous glare. The elevator door is about to open any moment, and Loki's heart rate picks up at the inevitable action.
"Now, look like you're in pain," says Thor evenly. "So, you know, your usual face."
The god of lies bites back the urge to snap a sarcastic comment and, instead, affects a grimace, curling into Thor. He tries to push back the memories that always surface when the two of them engage in this particular trick.
"Keep up!"
"Do not wait for me!"
Loki doubled back despite the sea of Dark Elves close on their heels. Thor clutched his side as if he had a stitch in it. He was several paces behind Loki.
The god of mischief placed a hand on Thor's shoulder. He shouted breathlessly, "Come on!"
Thor nodded between gasps.
Once they were clear of the caves built into the mountain side they could summon Heimdall's magic. The gigantic hall of the caves echoed with the screeches and jeers of the Dark Elves.
"They…don't…seem…to like…the fact…that we… defeated…their leader."
Loki smiled grimly. He wanted to tell Thor to save his breath and poor attempts at jokes until after they cleared the caves, but he was too focused on escape.
"Kurse was a poor excuse for a ruler!" Loki shouted back. "Why father didn't overthrow him centuries ago, I have no idea!"
Somehow, they made it to the caves' entrance, carved like a giant ivory skull's jaw unhinging. Before Loki could dream up some magic to distract the horde of Dark Elves gaining on them, Thor had already spun his hammer to a whirling frenzy. Skillfully, lightning crackled from Mjolnir and coursed through the rock wall above them. Almost immediately, it shook and crumbled, crashing down with a roar that would have shaken the foundations of Valhalla. Loki cried out, leaping clear of the debris to the safety of outside.
Coughing in the dust, he turned back frantically. "Thor!"
Within seconds, a figure stumbled from the cloud of tumbling rocks. His shoulder-length blonde hair was streaked with dirt, his face caked with grime, and there was no sight of his precious hammer. But he was alive.
Loki took a step toward his brother when nearby voices stopped his movement.
Guards.
Father wouldn't approve of returning to Asgard with a handful of Dark Elves in their pockets. Loki peeked around the side of the mountain and spotted a dozen or so headed their way: a nuisance, but manageable.
Swiftly, the god of lies slung one of Thor's arms over his shoulder.
"New technique," Loki blurted out, his mind thinking rapidly. "I call it 'get help.'"
"Loki…" Thor's voice was weak. His head bowed, pressed against the god of mischief's shoulder.
"Don't worry," Loki said, ignoring his brother. "This is going to work perfectly. Just pretend to be in pain."
They took a few tottering steps forward, and Thor leaned heavily upon Loki so that the trickster was keeping him upright. When they came around the corner of rocks, Thor even moaned.
Loki wanted to tell him not to get too theatrical and lose himself in the part, but there wasn't time.
"Get help!" Loki cried frantically, contorting his face into one of pure grief and concern. "My brother is going to die! Get help!"
The Dark Elves' faces were expressionless beneath silver and white masks and black eyes, but they turned to each other quizzically. It was just enough time for Loki to lift Thor in both hands.
The god of thunder began to murmur, "What are you—" when Loki hurtled Thor's body at the dozen guards, knocking them down like pins. And the few remaining upright soon met the fate of a spear through their stomachs. Loki discarded the weapon and cracked his knuckles, chuckling at his own cunning.
"That was a good one," he said, partly to Thor, partly to himself. "We shall have to remember that one, brother… Brother?"
A familiar moan emanated from the pile of Dark Elf bodies, and Loki's pride instantly turned to panic.
"Thor!"
Loki dug through the felled guards until he saw a sliver of familiar crimson belonging to Thor's cloak. With a little more work, he unearthed his older brother. Thor's eyes were half-open and hazy.
"What is it?" Loki hissed. He half expected Thor to be pulling a prank on him. "That shouldn't have hurt you…"
Thor bowed his head and removed a hand from his right side as if it had been stuck there. Blood poured from a deep wound as soon as he took his hand away, and Loki sucked in a breath. His thoughts strayed back to the caves when they were running from the army and Thor had lagged behind. He had been clutching his side…
Loki wasn't big on apologies, but one almost slipped out of his wide-open mouth.
"I didn't think… I thought y-you were pretending to be hurt."
"Do not… worry," Thor rasped. His face was growing paler by the moment. "It made… the trick better…. I didn't have to pretend…"
"All will be well," Loki said hastily. "We will be in Asgard within seconds, and you will be seen by healers."
Thor opened his mouth as if to say something, but his eyes slid closed, and he sank backwards limply against the mishmash of guards.
"Thor!" Loki cried, but his brother didn't stir. Hastily, the god of mischief hoisted Thor out of the mess of bodies via his shoulders, dragging him several feet away to be clear of the pack.
His brother's weak voice stopped him a moment before Loki called upon Heimdall.
"Wait…"
Loki hesitated, confused. Thor's right hand weakly bent forward, as if reaching for an invisible hand. There was the sound of metal striking rock, an anvil-crash, and then Mjolnir was zinging through the air, straight into Thor's grasp.
In ordinary circumstances, Loki would have made some sort of quick quip about Thor never being able to go anywhere without his baby blanket, but Thor was unconscious again and slumped against him.
"HEIMDALL!"
Loki couldn't remember many details about the rest of the day through the onslaught of healers and harsh shouts from his father, but he remembered holding Thor close through the spiral of multi-colored lights as the swirling tunnel brought them back home.
"Someone get help! Get help—he's dying!"
Loki's face twists into a pained grimace, and he groans, pressing his face against Thor's shoulder. How many times have they played out this particular trick? A few hundred? Maybe more? And every time after the first, Loki always insisted that he play the part of the victim. It has become so routine that Thor doesn't even ask him which role he wants anymore.
Maybe he doesn't remember the first time, Loki thinks. And then the god of mischief realizes that's probably for the best.
The goons on Sakaar blink stupidly at each other, giving Thor enough time to pick Loki up like a battering ram and hurl him towards the group. Loki braces himself for the impact but still cries out as his body slams against the others.
"Loki!"
Through a haze of pain, Loki's darkened vision clears, and he finds himself staring up at his brother, crystal blue eyes cornered with worry.
"Loki? Say something!"
The god of lies forces a smile, the breath temporarily knocked out of him.
"That was…a good one," he wheezes.
Thor's apprehension changes to relief, and he sighs while shaking his head. "I'm not sure why you still love to torture yourself after all these years. It wasn't your fault on Svartalfheim. You didn't know I was hurt…"
All the memories recently mulled over from that day so long ago flash in Loki's mind. He swallows back emotion. "I'm…sorry." The words are barely a whisper.
Thor scratches his head absently. "C'mon. We've got to go."
He takes Loki's arm and helps him upright, making sure the god of mischief finds his feet before releasing the hold. Loki's vision tilts slightly and then rights itself. Nothing broken.
"I get to be the victim next time," Thor says almost as a side note while Loki brushes himself off.
"Never," Loki shoots back without a glance.
"But I am obviously the superior actor."
Loki practically chokes. "The day you become a better actor than me is the day I start telling the truth."
Thor starts to laugh, and his laughter is so contagious that Loki can't help but join in. Their capes flutter behind them as they walk, red and green sometimes mingling playfully, sometimes lashing out at each other, contrasting yet constant.
The brothers walk together.
~Fin~
A/N: Yeeeeah it got a little cheesy there at the end. What did you all think of the movie? "The Revengers" are so much fun! And, WOW, I missed Loki. "Ragnarok" definitely brought back the first Avengers' movie Loki-feels for me. Hope you enjoyed this little fic. Let me know what you think in the comments, and I will send you virtual rainbows galore!
~Ista ^_^