A/N: WARNING. This contains graphic representation of self-harm, cutting, and abuse. Please do not proceed to read this if you will be harmed by this type of content.

This is about Loki and Thor and their fucking precious love and adoration and worship of each other (at least at Thor's end).

No, it's not Thorki, although I kinda ship it and it'll most likely show up in future representations of these beauties.

Disclaimer: I don't own these two motherfuckers. And if I did...well...

Enjoy, lovelies.

p.s. The song is I Don't Believe You by P!nk. This is also part of the Supernova series. Although it's more of a flashback, set before the series began. It slightly ties into the time between Chapter 27 and the Epilogue of Counting Stars.


Loki took a deep breath, staring at the ceiling. It was gripped tightly in his hand; and the sharpness had always given a kind of comfort. Here, he was in his shelter. His sanctuary, his temple. Perhaps, it was here, on this hard tile floor, covered in his own harsh-coming tears and his haggard-beating heart that he worshiped. Perhaps, this was his place of reverence, where something sacred came to embrace him. Not god, certainly. Loki wasn't sure he believed in god- nor was he sure he didn't. But here, he believed- not in hope, or faith, or happiness, even- but in something that could function- not well, but when was functioning alone ever anything but illness?

"Loki? Are you in there?" Thor's voice was about as soft and compassionate as Loki had ever heard it sound. Nevertheless, he shot the newly-offensive door a glare that could melt the skin off Thor's pretty face. "I'm sorry. And...so's dad." The seventeen year old's voice quavered a bit. "He wanted me to tell you that. Really."

Loki's fingers gripped the silver blade tighter. It was his security blanket, it would keep him safe from the emotions building within him, if anything could. It was all he had, because Thor could never understand. Odin had never hit him, never lashed out on him with all the power and fury of a storm- ripping through him like a tornado through a trailer park in Kansas.

"Loki...please." Thor sounded pitiful, like a struck puppy. And maybe, in some ways, Loki was punishing his older, bigger, stronger brother. For not being there, for just watching him get cut down and humiliated and pinned down. "I'm so sorry." He could hear the hunky blond sitting down beside the door.

"Go away." His voice shook, burdened by the bulky emotions clogging his throat. "Just...go, Thor." He tried to sound strong, but he hadn't been that in a long time.

"Loki, please, just come out. I can make it all better, again. I promise."

Promises, promises. What did they ever amount to? Wasted breath. Stupid hope. Ridiculous faith. They were just ghosts clouding his brain like smog. They haunted him, every night when he lay in bed. They plagued him like an unlucky man caught in the path of a black cat. And yet, he still got caught in their net, their rope slid over his head and round his neck, their fetters clasped his wrists.

"No you can't, Thor. You never could." He sounded hoarse, thanks to the tears shed from his swimming green eyes, and the snot seeping from his nose. He sniffed, rubbing at his swollen eye. It hurt. Everything hurt.

When Loki looked in the mirror, naked and disheveled, he saw nothing that was his own. He saw merely a blank canvas, painted in shades of royal purple, midnight blue, and sanguine crimson. There was pitch black pouring off his shoulders and down between the blades that cut through his back, sliding down his spine like ink. Green floated in his eyes like emeralds. Red dripped off his lips like little rubies, pooling between his lips and dripping down his chin. And white set off every bright color traipsing down his ribs and across his legs and splashed over his arms, like fireworks painted into his flesh by the unkind hand of his father.

"Loki...I love you. Please, don't hurt yourself." It all hit Loki like another fist. Another pummel into his body. Another thing to make him scream and beg and grovel like a mutt begging for food as it got beat back into the streets.

This was why he stood here. Because Thor had told their father that Loki had cut. Frigga hadn't stopped him, knowing the consequences that would probably arise.

Finally, his fist tightened enough to bring the blade ripping through his palm. He dug his teeth into his bottom lip, letting the pain rush through him, letting the imagined euphoria of his drug ease his fingers and let the razor drop to the floor. Carmine slid down his fingers, wet and warm. It eased the icky pulse in his wrists and elbows and every crook and cranny of his skeleton.

Suddenly, Thor was banging on the door, startling Loki enough to make him jolt. "Loki, open the fucking door!" Thor had hit a frantic, unhinged decibel. Loki stared at the shaking door, wondering what had set him off.

"Thor...shut up." He murmured, looking down at his slick, red palm. Blood was dripping in an even flow off the tips of his fingers.

It made him feel sick.

Watching that sanguine ooze from the slice through his skin, crisscrossing and swimming over his flesh like it desired to be free of him. Loki looked down at the deceitfully glittering razor, nestled on the tile like it was melding with the hard, cold floor. It could flay his skin from his body, let loose the gore trapped within his veins. It could show the world the pulchritude of such a small thing murdering such a powerful body. Because something as small and thin and powerless as a sharp, silver blade could bring a lean, young man to his knees under the direction of a human hand.

Loki could feel his pulse racing- a frenetic attempt to remind him of his life, no doubt. He could feel that worthless organ in his chest beating strong. He wanted them both to halt. He wanted them to stop.

A key slid into the door, catching Loki's ear. He froze, staring around him at the red mess. He closed his eyes and stood still and silent- awaiting the rage and the pain that would soon comense. Instead, a blanket was wrapped around his bare body and a hug enveloped him. "Oh, brother. Why?" It was murmured in his ear, and the door was kicked closed. They were alone.

"It's all that makes him bearable. I can't take it anymore, Thor." Loki felt two brawny arms wrap around his sore ribcage, crushing him against a strong chest with a mighty, brave heart. Tears barrelled down his cheeks and into a worn t-shirt, soaking the Captain America design darkly.

A big hand rubbed his back through the blanket consolingly. "I know, baby." Out of the billions of people in the world, Thor was the only one who could call him 'baby' without getting their tongue cut out and hung on Loki's wall. "I'll keep you safe from him. He won't hurt you anymore." And somehow, even though it was a lie and they both knew it, Thor's words comforted him and made him feel safe and secure in his brother's tight embrace. "Let me see it."

With a shaking, trembling movement, Loki displayed his still-bleeding palm. Thor sucked in a deep breath and pulled Loki into another lung-crushing hug. A kiss was placed on the side of his mouth, then Thor started rooting around in the medicine cabinets and the storage cabinets under the sink for the first aid kit. With a triumphant smile, Thor found the kit, then made Loki sit on the counter while Thor played nurse.

His tears were wiped away and his wound cleaned and bandaged within fifteen minutes. Given a pair of boxers and a huge t-shirt of Thor's, Loki crawled into bed. For approximately five minutes, he stayed where he was- listening to Thor brush his teeth and pull his tangled hair into a messy ponytail. He could identify every movement and every sound. He had heard the same routine repeated 365 times a year, for 16 years.

But when everything went silent, Loki slipped out of bed and tip-toed into Thor's room. His brother didn't move, but he could've sworn he saw a goopy, satisfied grin on that tan face. Still, unwilling to face the nightmares that awaited him in sleep, he slipped into his brother's bed and curled into a small ball at his brother's back. Before he fell completely asleep, he felt himself get cradled against his brother's chest, safe from the demons that plagued his every sleeping moment.

Loki smiled.


A/N: Wtf. It's happy- at the end. AWWWWW. I love Thor and Loki's relationship. Even if it's not all sexy, and hot, and rough sex. And yeahhhhh, it's kinda fluffy. But, I just think Thor's a big puppy. I mean...HE LOOKS SO CUDDLY.

Anywayssss, I hope you enjoyed. AND PLEASE, PLEASE review? I've resorted to begging...

Seriously, guys. I love hearing your opinions :*

I LOVE YOU ALL. And guys, if you self-harm, know that someone out there truly understands. And though it may not be much of a consolation, I care. I'm always here if you need someone to talk to, k? xoxoxoxoxox

~Rayn.