Carry Home My Wayward Soul
Chapter 1:
It's freezing in the apartment when he walks in, which doesn't make any sense, Thor thinks, because he knows he left the heat on when he left for work this morning.
It's January, and 35 degrees out, and right now it doesn't feel any warmer in here.
His first thought is that the damn heater must have broken again, and that's what he gets for living in such a shitty complex. But as he closes the front door behind him and tosses his keys onto the side table, he becomes aware of a biting draft working its way through the space, like the cold air from outside is blowing in.
Immediately he tenses, senses suddenly on high alert.
This is also what he gets, he supposes, for living in such a shitty complex in such a shitty neighborhood. But his current pay won't allow for anything better, and he just had to go all independent and tell Father and Mother that he didn't need their financial support, or that position Dad offered in his firm, despite the fact Thor went to Cambridge and got his damn law degree and everything.
As he reaches for the bat he keeps hidden beneath the sofa, he thinks being a rebel really isn't all it's cracked up to be.
Though this won't be the first thief he's scared the shit out of and chased screaming from his apartment.
Thor's a big guy. He knows it. The second the little bastards get a load of him, they usually drop everything and run.
He moves as quietly as he can, though he thinks he's probably already given himself away from the way he tossed his keys and slammed the door.
Maybe they're already gone and the fucker left his back door open on their way out.
Either way, Thor's pissed, and he swears, he might actually chase them down the street this time if they're still around.
Rounding the corner into his kitchen, he raises the bat and sucks in a deep breath, getting ready to roar to the heavens.
And then he steps past the threshold, and stops dead in his tracks.
The door is open, like he thought, leading out to his barely qualifying half-balcony, overlooking the lovely back alley where everyone dumps their trash, and standing there, back turned to Thor, elbow propped in one hand, cigarette in the other, is his little brother.
For a moment, Thor finds himself stunned into silence, the bat lowering numbly to his side, and he stares for long seconds, watching Loki, standing still as a statue, moving only to pull a drag every now and then.
"Well, are you going to say hello, or are you just going to stand there gapping all night like some love-struck fool?"
Loki's voice carries across the small space, clear and cutting, and it's enough to shake Thor out of his momentary stupor.
He swallows thickly, stepping forward and stopping again.
"Loki…" he starts, and he can't quite keep the shock out of his voice.
Loki, who he hasn't seen in more than a year.
Who last he'd seen, had been moving in with his then boyfriend, Thanos.
Thor had never liked Thanos.
The guy was a straight up bastard, and in Thor's opinion, possibly psychopathic.
Loki wasn't someone to let anyone push him around or talk down to him. His brother was too damn smart, and would cut you to shreds with his tongue if you even looked at him funny.
But Thanos… Thanos had always done just that. Talked down to Loki and exerted a kind of control over him which Thor had never seen anyone able to accomplish.
He hadn't liked either the way he'd sometimes seen the guy put hands on Loki, pulling him along, or shoving him where he wanted him to go.
It had confused the hell out of Thor, that Loki would allow anyone to treat him that way. Loki just wasn't the type. He wasn't some wilting flower.
He wouldn't even let Dad treat him that way, except when he was a lot younger. He'd talk right back to the old man, get in his face and everything.
But around Thanos, Loki would always just shut right down and comply wordlessly to whatever the son of a bitch told him to do.
Thor remembered getting into a heated argument with his brother over it, just before Loki had moved out, trying to make him see reason, trying to understand why he was even with Thanos.
Loki had screamed at him that he just didn't get it. Claimed he was in love with Thanos. Said that in Thanos, he'd finally found someone who could keep up with his breakneck thought process.
Thor didn't get that either. Thanos wasn't what he'd call stupid, but fuck, he wasn't half as smart as his kid brother.
No one was, really.
But that had been that. Loki had moved out, and Thor hadn't heard from him since. Not even a phone call or an email or a letter, as Loki preferred still.
Even their Mom hadn't heard from him more than a couple times, and Loki had always made it a point to stay in contact with her. He'd always treated their mother like a Queen.
But there he was now, standing out on the balcony, smoking a cigarette just like always. Like no time had passed at all.
Belatedly, Thor remembers how damn cold it is outside, and old habits kick in hard.
"Jesus Loki, it's freezing out there." He starts, leaning the bat up against the kitchen table and moving towards his brother. "Get inside here before you catch cold."
He's nearly to Loki, and he sees his brother flick the ash at the end of his cigarette away, shuffling farther out onto the deck, back still turned towards him.
"I'm fine Thor. You know the cold's never bothered me."
"Like hell Loki." Thor argues. And he remembers without want all the times he'd found Loki out in the dead of winter, frozen half to death and shivering like a leaf, having to drag him back inside and rub him down with heated blankets and hot water bottles and wrap him in his own body heat.
Loki, who's never really been very good at taking care of himself, despite all that brain power. Maybe because of it.
Thor's always thought of the phrase 'too smart for your own good' when it comes to his brother.
He doesn't hesitate, closing the distance and grabbing Loki round his upper arm, pulling him back inside.
He ignores the agitated protest from the younger man. He also ignores how frighteningly skinny he can feel Loki is beneath his suit jacket.
Tries to ignore the sudden swell of guilt he feels for ever letting his brother run off with that piece of shit like he did.
Loki needs looking after, and Thanos was never going to fill that role.
"Would you let go of me!?" Loki snaps, and finally Thor releases his grip, closing the door to the balcony.
He doesn't even ask permission before he's plucking the still burning cigarette from Loki's fingers and tossing it in the sink, turning the tap on to put it out.
"No smoking in here. You know the rules." He says.
Loki scoffs, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms over his thin chest.
"I wasn't smoking in here. I was out on the balcony." He informs in that haughty tone which sets Thor's teeth on edge.
"You had the door wide open and smoke and cold air was wafting in." Thor replies bluntly, to which he receives another eye roll.
"Whatever Thor. You're always so uptight." Loki says, turning away.
"And you're always so reckless." Thor shoots back, starting to feel annoyed now. "Why are you here Loki?" He asks. "How'd you even get in?"
His eyes narrow as he watches his brother start towards the kitchen table, pulling out a chair. He doesn't fail to notice the stiffness of Loki's movements as he lowers himself into the seat, sitting carefully. Gingerly. Like he's in pain.
He threads skeletally thin hands together atop the table, shrugging.
"I still have my old key." He informs. "And apparently you've yet to change the locks."
He isn't looking at Thor, and it gives the older man a chance to really look at his kid brother.
Now that he does, Loki really doesn't look so great.
He's disheveled in a way that's truly unlike him. Usually immaculately pressed suit rumpled and even dirty looking, shirt collar undone and without a tie. His hair's longer than Thor's ever seen it. Down to his shoulders now and messy, where normally Loki would always wear it slicked tightly and neatly back.
The rooms dark, the lights still out. Even still, Thor can make out what looks like dark smudges across the sharp, angular features of his brother's face, and can see, even from this distance and the minimal light, Loki's hands are shaking, if only just.
An abrupt, sickening dread takes hold Thor's insides, and without thinking, he moves to switch on the lights.
The moment he does, Loki hisses and turns his face away, pressing a hand over it.
"God damn it Thor!" He says. "My eyes hurt!"
In the better lighting, Thor sees Loki's even more out of sorts than he'd realized.
His suit's not just rumpled, it's filthy looking. Like he's been rolling around on the ground and in the dirt. His hair's matted and tangled and split at the ends, like he hasn't combed or washed it in more than a few days.
And his hands, Thor finally sees, are bruised and swollen at the knuckles, the skin split and crusted with dried blood. His always perfectly trimmed, clean fingernails have dirt and whatever else caked under them.
His skin is deathly pale. More so even than usual.
"Loki, what's going on?" Thor asks, suddenly afraid, moving towards the table to take a seat across from his brother.
Loki shifts farther away from his direction, hand still covering his face.
"Nothing." He mutters. "Nothing, I just…"
"Loki," Thor cuts him short, sitting down. He reaches forward without thought and takes hold of Loki's wrist, tugging his hand away.
Predictably, Loki protests, trying to keep his hand plastered to his face. But Thor's always been a good deal strong than his little brother, and he pulls the limb down without much effort at all.
Loki hisses again, turning his face.
Thor already had a sinking suspicion of what he'd find.
It does nothing to prepare him for what he actually sees.
Loki's face is a broken mess.
What Thor had thought in the dark to be dirt or shadows of some kind, turns out instead to be deep, ugly bruising, no more than a few hours old, it looks like, all across his jaw and the left side of his face, an awful abrasion running down the entire length of his right cheekbone.
There are cuts above and below both his eyes, both of them swollen noticeably in turn. His lip is split at the bottom, dried, clotted blood crusting over the wound.
Across the bridge of his nose is an ugly gash, stretching the entire width and hideously wide.
"Jesus Christ…" Thor breaths, horrified.
"Maybe after the crucifixion." Loki replies flippantly, lips pulling up into a forced smirk.
Thor feels sick.
Terrified and enraged and heartbroken all at once.
He feels his breath quicken, his heart pounding uncomfortably hard against his ribcage, his palms growing instantly sweaty.
He swallows thickly against the wave of a million different emotions, jaw clenching tight.
"Who…" he has to pause a moment, fingers curling into fists. "Who did this to you?" He finally manages in a contradictory calm tone.
He already fucking knows. But he needs to hear Loki say it so he can have an excuse to go over to that piece of dog shit's house and beat the fucking son of a bitch bastard to death.
"Thor…" Loki begins, raising his trembling hands up in a placating motion, tone pleading.
"No." Thor cuts him short, voice edged in warning. "No, Loki…" he shakes his head. "You tell me who did this to you. ."
Loki shakes his own head, and Thor sees the thin column of his throat bob as he swallows.
"I can't Thor." He says. "I can't do that."
"Loki, so help me, if you don't tell me right no…"
"Thor, I… I can't. You'll want to go over there and…"
Thor can scarcely believe what he's hearing. Can hardly grasp the horrible fear he hears in his little brother's voice. Loki, who's so rarely shown fear of any kind in more years than Thor can remember.
"Are you seriously trying to protect that fucking piece of shit!? Loki!" Thor's voice rises in anger and disbelief.
Again, Loki shakes his head, and suddenly his eyes are too bright, a wet sheen coating them. He bites his lip and looks away, and Thor feels his own throat constrict at the sight.
Every instinct in him rockets off.
Loki is his little brother. He's supposed to protect him, God damn it! And now he's let this happen and he can't…
Abruptly he stands from his seat, the legs of his chair scrapping loudly against the linoleum flooring.
A moment later, Loki follows him, but already Thor is heading towards the front door.
He's going to kill the bastard. He swears to God he's going to…
"Thor, please!" Loki is suddenly there, grabbing hold of his arm and trying fruitlessly to hold him back. "Please don't do this!" He entreats desperately.
Thor yanks his arm free of his brother's hold, turning on him angrily.
He doesn't miss the way Loki flinches back from the violent movement, and for a moment it gives him pause.
"Loki, I don't understand you. That son of a bitch beat the shit out of you! You're my brother. And you expect me to just stand by and let that go?!"
Loki shakes his head, and Thor feels his heart sink as finally the tears which had been gathering thick in his eyes slip free, streaming down his bruised and battered face.
His brother looks away, his hand sliding from Thor's arm.
"It's not that Thor. It's…" again, he shakes his head, hand coming up and wiping clumsily at his eyes. "I don't want you getting near him Thor. He… he's dangerous. I didn't want to get you involved at all. I didn't want to come here because I knew how you'd react, but I… I didn't have anywhere else to go. I b-barely got away, and I thought he was going to k-kill me this time and…"
"Wait." Thor reaches out, a sick dread coiling like a lead weight in his belly. "What do you mean this time?"
But Loki won't look at him now, turning his face away.
"Loki, what do you mean this time!?" Thor presses, not willing to let it go. "He's done this to you before."
It isn't a question this time. He already knows the answer.
The way Loki's eyes close, his expression growing tight only confirms the answer.
And suddenly he remembers how stiffly Loki moved, how rigid and careful he was sitting down at the kitchen table.
"Loki, what…" he starts, but he's cut short suddenly as his brother turns, and Thor is rendered for a moment speechless as the younger man throws his arms around him, clinging to him with desperation.
He feels Loki shudder, his face pressing hard against his shoulder, and he realizes an instant later that Loki is weeping.
It's so completely unlike his brother, who since reaching adulthood has always been so unwaveringly reserved and closed off and withdrawn, that for long seconds, Thor doesn't know how to even react, just standing there limply, awkwardly, until finally his brain kicks into gear, and he raises his own arms, wrapping them round Loki's rail thin frame and holding him tight.
"Loki," he starts.
"Please Thor." Loki interrupts him again, his voice muffled and wet against his shoulder. "Please, just… j-just stay with me tonight. Just stay with me."
And just like that, all of the rage and indignation saps out of Thor like water through a sieve.
"Alright Loki." He says softly. "It's alright. It's okay. I'll stay with you."
"Please," Loki continues to beg, thin arms wrapping tighter. "please, just… just promise me you won't go over there. Promise me you'll stay."
"I promise Loki." Thor says, pressing his lips to his brother's crown, kissing him gently. "Alright? I'm here with you now."
Loki doesn't say anything after that, only pressing his face harder against Thor's shoulder, the tremors through his frame growing stronger as he continues to cry.
And all Thor can think of is how he let this happen to his brother. How Loki had been trapped with Thanos for over a year, and Thor isn't stupid, despite what his brother sometimes accuses him of. He knows, if the way he'd seen Thanos treat Loki was any indication before, this abuse has likely been going on since the beginning.
And he'd wondered why Loki let himself be treated that way.
He maybe understood better now, and he thinks the guilt might be eating him alive.
He doesn't understand why Loki never came to him before.
For a long while, they stand there, Thor holding Loki to him, letting him cry, shushing him every now and then when he feels his brother start to grow frantic.
Until, after a time, Loki at last begins to calm somewhat, his sobs slowing to an occasional hiccup.
"Hey," Thor starts softly, leaning back, looking down at his brother. He smiles weakly at him, knowing it's a sorry attempt at reassurance. He can barely stand to look at Loki's face, not with how beaten to hell it is. "How about we get you cleaned up, huh?"
Loki seems to hesitate then, looking away, wiping at his eyes with the heel of his palm.
"I… I'm alright." He says. "I can take care of it."
"Loki, come on." Thor insists, taking hold of his hand and tugging him gently towards the bathroom. "Someone needs to clean out and bandage those cuts, and we need to get that swelling down."
He feels his brother hesitate again, fighting a moment against Thor's tugging, before finally giving in and letting himself be led.
/
The harsh lighting of the bathroom throws Loki's injuries into stark relief, and Thor finds it even more difficult a task for him to look at his brother than before.
He orders Loki to sit on the toilet, which Loki does wordlessly and without protest.
He looks pitiful, sitting there, shoulders hunched up around his ears, like he's trying to hide himself, clothes a rumpled mess, alabaster skin bruised black and blue and purple, the swelling round his eyes made worse from his crying.
He's so small, Thor thinks, and again, he has to swallow against the lump forming in his throat, the sting against the backs of his eyes.
Just imagining that bastard putting his hands on Loki, on his little brother, has Thor seeing red in an instant.
He wonders how anyone could be so damned cruel.
Loki may be tough as nails. May have an iron will. May be the bravest man Thor's ever known, never backing down, never holding his tongue or giving up in what he believes, even when he's been outmatched and outgunned.
His brother may be all of those things. But Loki's strength has always been in his heart and mind.
Physically, he's always been a little on the frail side. He'd been sick constantly as a kid, and that hadn't really changed as he'd grown older. He'd never really grown very strong. Never really grown out of the way those numerous illnesses impacted his constitution.
It didn't used to really matter, because he had Thor. Built like a shit brick house Thor, Loki had used to joke. Nobody would be dumb enough to start anything with his little brother when he was around.
When he wasn't, well, Loki's mouth got him into trouble more often than not. It wasn't unusual for Loki to come home from school sporting a black eye or a busted lip.
The other kids had used to pick on him a lot.
Loki had always said it didn't bother him, but Thor knew it did.
He used to sometimes hear his brother at night, crying to himself in his room.
But those were kids. Kids were assholes. They didn't know any better.
But Thanos, well… Thanos was older than his brother by a good ten years. He was a man. Damn near big as Thor himself, tall and strong and muscular.
Loki had looked like some little kid standing next to him, and when Thor had first met Thanos, he'd thought maybe it was a good thing. Maybe his brother had finally found someone other than his big brother to look out for him and protect him.
Christ, had he been wrong.
He just doesn't understand, how someone that much bigger and stronger could be okay with hurting someone like his brother. Someone who couldn't defend themselves. How anyone could think that's okay.
He realizes he's clenching his teeth, his hands curled to fists at his sides, and he forces himself to relax then, pushing the thoughts from his mind.
He's no good to Loki like this right now.
His brother needs someone to be calm for him, to let him knows he's safe and that it's going to be alright.
He'll deal with Thanos later.
Fumbling around in the medicine cabinet a moment, he retrieves the first aid kit, grabbing a few washcloths and soaking them under the sink in warm water before bringing it all over and kneeling down in front of Loki.
"Here," he begins, pulling out some disinfectant wipes.
Gently, he takes hold his brother's chin, turning his face down slightly so he can have a better angle to see at.
Loki sits quietly and still as Thor begins cleaning up what he can. Washing the grime and blood away, before rubbing the wipes along all of the cuts and abrasions.
Loki can't quite keep his discomfort from his features the whole time, and Thor apologizes quietly for it.
Finally, he smoothes Band-Aids smeared with Neosporin over what he can. Some of the cuts look deep enough they may require stitches, but Thor doesn't think Loki's in any mood to go to the emergency room tonight.
"Okay," he says when he's finished. "I'm gonna draw you a bath, and then get you an ice pack to hold to your swelling while you soak in there. Alright?"
Loki nods mutely.
He won't look at Thor now, and the older man can tell his brother's falling rapidly into a depression.
"Hey," Thor cups his cheek, bringing his face up to look at him.
Finally, Loki's eyes fix with his own, bloodshot and bleary, and Thor thinks how exhausted he looks.
"It's going to be okay Loki." He says again. "I promise."
Loki only nods again, vague and weak, before his eyes slip once more away.
Thor stands, leaning down and kissing the top of his brother's head before moving towards the tub, turning the faucet and letting it fill.
/
He leaves Loki to it, allowing him some privacy, telling him he's just going to go and get him some fresh towels.
Loki tells him okay, and before Thor steps out, his brother grabs hold of him again in another hug, leaning his face against his chest and telling him thank you.
Thor hugs him back, giving him another kiss on the temple and telling him it's alright, before finally leaving him be.
There's a fresh load of towels in the dryer, Thor's happy to remember, and he makes sure to gather an armful of them, knowing his brother likes that.
Coming back to the bathroom door, it's still slightly ajar, as he left it. He can hear Loki splashing around the water in there, and he knocks once before pushing the door open, sticking his head in.
"I'm just going to leave these right her…"
The words die on his tongue, turning to ash. His mouth goes instantly dry and something like horror rips through his insides at the sight before him.
Loki seems as shocked as he is, frozen and naked, stepped halfway into the bathtub and staring back at him with wide, fearful eyes.
It isn't that which has Thor equally paralyzed though.
It's his brother's body.
It's as beaten to hell as his face. Maybe more so.
There's hardly an inch of him free of the worst bruising Thor's ever seen. Deep, hideous swaths of dark, dark black and blue, all across his back and ribs. Wide, round blooms of the same grotesque discoloration littering the backs of his thighs and calves and reaching up over his shoulders. Even with his back turned to him, Thor knows it stretches to his front, over his chest and stomach, no doubt.
Underneath, Thor can see mottled yellows and reds and greens, older bruising just beginning to heal.
Alone it's enough to make the older man's stomach lurch and churn in nauseating sickness.
Only there's something worse still then the clear evidence of numerously suffered, brutal beatings.
It's the shapes of some of those bruises, and where they are.
Along Loki's upper arms, along the insides of his thighs, the back of his neck, standing out sharp and screaming, are the impressions of thick, strong fingers. Fingers which had grasped and squeezed with bruising force and power. Fingers meant to restrain.
And the most damning of all, what causes a momentary weakening in Thor's knees and the room to spin in awful circles, is the torn up state of Loki's backside.
He's torn to shreds back there, blood trickling slow and sluggish down the insides of his thighs, the skin irritated and agitated to blistering red and yellow.
It's all Thor needs to see to understand immediately what happened, and a flood of emotions so strong hits him in that instant, he nearly collapses to the floor.
"Loki," he chokes, pushing the door the rest of the way open and stepping in.
Immediately Loki steps from the tub and turns, backing away a few steps.
He looks like some cornered, half-starved animal caught in a trap, eyes huge and shining, his frame nothing more than skin and bones.
Thor had been able to feel how skinny he was underneath his clothes. But seeing it now, seeing the prominent just of every one of his ribs, of his hipbones, the blades of his shoulders and collarbone, the vertebrae of his spine…
Christ, Loki doesn't look like he'd have the strength to fight off a little girl, let alone a man like Thanos.
Rage and despair war within Thor's mind for dominance. He doesn't know what to feel. What to do.
"Thor, it… it isn't what you think…" Loki starts, voice shaking and thin, and it's the most blatant falsehood Thor's ever heard come from his lips. His brother holds his hands up as if to somehow placate, and Thor feels his heart twist in agony, his face crumpling to match.
"He forced himself on you?" He cries, eyes filling instantly with tears. It isn't a question. Not really.
"Thor, please…" Loki entreats, voice cracking, and he sounds like a child.
"How many times?" Thor goes on, stepping closer. "How many times did he do this to you?"
"Thor…"
But Thor has closed the distance between them now, and he grabs his brother, pulling him hard against him and holding him crushingly tight.
Loki chokes out in pain, but Thor hardly notices, pressing his face to the top of his brother's scalp.
"No, no, no, Loki…" he begs. "no."
"Thor, please, please…" Loki sobs, voice breaking suddenly and completely as he dissolves for the second time that night into tears. Two times more than Thor has seen him cry in the last fifteen years. "Don't leave me here tonight." He begs, abandoning any attempt to dissuade Thor of what he already knows. "Don't leave me. Don't go over there. He… he'll kill you and th-then… then he'll kill me. Please…"
"I won't." Thor tells him, crying now too. "I won't leave you Loki. I swear it."
"Please." Loki continues as though he hasn't heard, thin hands clinging urgently, twisting in the material of Thor's shirt. "Please."
"I won't Loki." Thor's hand lifts, cupping the back of his brother's head, pressing his face to his chest. "I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere."
And he wasn't.
He had to figure this out. Had to figure out what to do.
But he knew it wouldn't be tonight.
Not tonight.
Not when he's promised his little brother he would stay.
/
AN: Oh, what is this, another new story! I've really got to stop. My attentions already being pulled in a million different directions. But I keep getting new ideas and the passionate desire to write them down. So here's another one, and I hope you're enjoying it! If so, let me know and I'll continue it, along with my zillion other ongoing projects, haha.