A/N: A little (ok, not really little) something I wrote up because I was feeling in the mood to write Loki. I can't help but want to hug to snot out of him every time I watch The Avengers. I had to write this little sensitive moment, here. NOT at all a reference to Thor x Loki. It's just one sibling's love for another, the way I love my brother...
A very special thank you to InkRoze for doing the Beta-ing for this story! Thanks SOOOOO much, love! :)
Loki, Thor, Ironman, and the other Avengers belong to Marvel. I just own my words! Do not steal or claim as your own!
Edit: Further grammatical errors fixed-I think. Let me know if I missed anything! Thanks!
The God of Mischief narrowed dark-ringed eyes on the three very deadly looking Avengers standing before him, across the expanse of the shattered marble floor. Stark had a rather magnificent gash in the left side of his armor, a testimony to Laufeyson's new scepter, which had gouged a great tear in the mechanical suit earlier in the great battle. Blood more crimson than the suit dribbled down over the metal armor as the superhero crouched there amidst the rubble, each jagged breath tearing a gaping hole in the silence. His teeth were grit behind that mask, Loki could tell. Ironman's solid blue stare pinned him in place, the glow though the eye-slits frigid as ice.
The soldier was crouched beside his red and gold friend, a hand gently placed on one armored shoulder to convey some sense of relief to the suffering genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist. Rogers' eyebrows were arched down in a firm look as his gaze flickered up to the demi-god once he was certain that Tony wasn't going to pass out immediately from loss of blood. He slowly stood, like a great panther preparing to attack, muscles rippling beneath the red, white, and blue spandex. Captain America checked the latch on his shield in what Loki deemed a threatening gesture.
The only one who seemed to not absolutely hate his guts-for reasons the God of Mischief could not for the life of him understand-was his own brother. Well, Thor considered Loki a brother. Loki seemed to insist he would never claim such a title once. Inwardly, though, the trickster could not help but look at Thor and always see his elder sibling standing there. The God of Thunder watched him steadily, with that look of disappointment and anger that Loki could tell meant Thor was and always would be greatly upset with him. It tugged painfully at Laufeyson's heart strings, though he concealed such inward pain with a snarl, teeth gritted in pain and mocking.
"You cannot hope to beat me, you pitiful scum." The demi-god turned to look at Thor. "And you," he spat. "Look at your friends, now. Struggling in this mighty battle they cannot hope to win. You would put them in such a position?"
Tony clenched an armored fist, breath still too ragged to respond; though he did attempt a halfway menacing growl that conveyed his fury at the comment.
Again, the God of Mischief addressed the heroes of Earth. "Look at your wounded! It is the mighty God of Thunder who would leave them defenseless to my wrath." Loki gestured at the downed Black Widow and Hawkeye, the archer barely conscious as he struggled to stabilize the assassin.
"Loki." Thor's voice was strained. "You know not what you speak of..."
Laufeyson's head jerked around, cold green eyes boring deeply into his rival, his brother. "Don't I?!" He jeered, a hint of pain-induced madness flickering in his eyes. A faint tremor shook his hand and he clutched it against his side, fighting it. The demi-god bore the scars of the battle as blatantly as any of the rest: robes tattered, sleeve torn through and stained with blood from a horrible wound inflicted by Ironman's chest emitter. In the deadly strike that Loki had made against Stark, he had left himself vulnerable. Ironman had been quick to capitalize on that mistake. The God of Mischief suffered from several other cuts and bruises, having been battered by the Captain and Widow.
"No, Loki." Thor rumbled. "You do not."
Thor took a simple step forward, armored boots scraping the already damaged marble, one hand outstretched. Loki instinctively retreated at the approach, his eyebrows narrowing with doubt and teeth clenched in a wary hiss.
"It doesn't look like he'll be coming around any time, Thor." It was Rogers who had spoken up, lips pursed in a thin line.
Thor's eyes flickered from the leader of the Avengers, to Stark, then over to Agents Romanov and Barton. Outside the half-destroyed building, the formerly bright, irritatingly sunny sky darkened with looming clouds, the wind picking up. Loki paled, taking back every ugly thought he had ever sent at the pleasant weather. His shallow breath quickened and his attention shifted back to the God of Thunder. "Thor..." he cautioned, knowing there was really no use. He'd brought this upon himself.
Lightning ripped through the sky above, tearing a jagged gash in the clouds. The thunder was immediate, rumbling with the terrible growl of a thousand monsters all controlled within that crackling, sizzling bolt of lightning. The sound sent chills popping down Laufeyson's neck and spine, crawling down his arms and he again sent a nervous glance upwards, through the shattered skylights to the menacing clouds.
"It does not have to be this way." Thor murmured lowly once more, a half-pleading tone leeching into his voice. "You can still come home."
It was Thor's imploring manner and the way he applied emphasis on the word home that broke Loki. His fury threatened to overwhelm him, gushing in a torrent from a harsh pain that he had nursed, culturing it into a deep hatred for all of Asgard. His ranging fury for the lies that manifested themselves into his life from the start of his first years with the Allfather's falsehoods.
"NO!" Loki snarled with fury. He turned with a flourish and threw dual blades at both his brother and Captain America. The lightning descended upon the daggers in mid-flight, halting their progress and then arced back toward the trickster. Loki had time to widen his eyes and tense, trying to spring out of the way before the bolt struck him. His attempt failed, the lightning bolt jolting through him, knocking him back into the gravely marble. The God of Mischief felt the breath knocked out of him as he slid along several paces, his back protesting against the punishment.
A pulse of blue caught his attention and he jerked his head around towards it, fearing that Stark had recovered enough to attempt an attack after Loki's particularly scathing comment. He felt the vertebrae in his neck grind painfully at the abrupt movement. Laufeyson felt a flash of sadistic satisfaction when he saw the scepter just feet from where he had fallen.
"Loki!" Thor hollered, eyes narrowed, seeing his brother's intent. He'd seen that sharp grin. The flicker of his slitted eyes back towards the assassins. The God of Thunder didn't pause to think. He simply reacted.
Loki lurched forward, his slim fingers grasping the brilliant golden handle of the scepter. He parted his lips in a wicked, fanged grin as he turned with deadly, evil intent. The blue orb pulsed and brightened as it charged with a powerful blast. He heard Thor's shout, but ignored it. If he could just-
And that was when a great bolt of lightning descended from the heavens to strike him, arcing and sizzling across the demi-god's limbs. The dark green and gray form spazmed as the voltage coursed through his limbs, jittering him about like a demented puppet on marionette strings. The lightning was not brief, but lengthy. Thor, completely frozen with surprise, held Mjolnir firmly, stiffly, directing the lightning down from the clouds to the trickster. Loki shrieked shrilly in pain.
After what seemed like hours but was only a few moments, the hammer's weight came crashing down upon the shattered marble, cracking the previously-smooth rock into sharp, jagged pieces and throwing bits up into the air. With Mjolnir out of the equation, the lightning abruptly and finally ceased. Residual crackling echoed in the ears of all the conscious mortals present. Thor was already racing over despite his own various bruises and cuts to fall to his knees beside the smoking form of his brother.
"Loki..." Thor's breathless voice cut through the intense pain that threatened to take the God of Mischief into the beyond. He couldn't open his eyes. Couldn't do anything at all to acknowledge the God of Thunder's words. He could barely feel the large, rough hands he knew so well cradle his head, lifting it up slightly. Loki could not bite back the whimper of pain the slight movement caused him, and he felt Thor's hands immediately still.
"Loki, I beg your forgiveness. The others-my team-" Thor was halted from his stuttered ramblings when Loki painfully flopped one hand up to brush against the other demi-god's face.
"Shhh..." the words were hissed through dry, cracked lips. Loki struggled for a breath, hearing it rasp dryly beyond the erratic thump of his heart beat in his ears. "I... don't blame you."
Loki's hand dropped back down to the fallen demi-god's side uselessly and his face scrunched up against the pain coursing through his body, his eyes shut tightly. Thor took his brother's fallen hand, holding it between his own. At this distance, he could finally see the wear and tear on Loki's body. Prison had not been kind to him, nor the Chitauri and Thanos, whom had hounded him after their break-in of Asgard's prison to take the God of Mischief. Thor felt the weakness in those hands, the tremor Loki didn't bother to hide in his vulnerability. The God of Thunder also took notice of every sharp line of Loki's body, his shallow cheeks, sharp chin, pale skin, and the scars. For all his brother's supposed perfection, the way he kept his image immaculate, close inspection revealed the hardships he endured. Tears sprang to Thor's gentle blue eyes, and slid slowly down his strong, chiseled features, landing with gentle pats on the gray coat Loki wore.
The noise stirred the downed demi-god, who parted his eyes in a squint to see the form of his brother bent low over him. Loki's heart swelled with pain. How he would love to pretend everything was alright, and they were back in Asgard. With Mother. And for a moment a strained smile crossed Laufeyson's shallow features. But it was not to last as the pain returned in a rush that forced another whimper from his throat. Thor leaned closer, and Loki's heart-ache and pain and fury returned. A harsh grin split the God of Mischief's features in a brief second and he lashed out blindly with a near-useless limb to briefly distract the God of Thunder while he scrabbled with bloodied fingers for the scepter.
"Loki!" Thor protested, trying to bat his younger sibling's hand away without injuring the wounded demi-god any further. Loki ignored the protest, feeling satisfaction thrill through his body as his fingers closed on the weapon.
"Thor!" Stark and Rogers shouted in unison, both launching themselves forward in the fear that Loki would strike a devastating blow to their teammate.
The grin on Loki's features turned a little softer, shifting to a rueful smirk as he forced his aching muscles to roll away from the God of Thunder, his head leaving the gentle cradle that was Thor's lap. The scepter lit up brilliantly, and Loki's form became intangible, first softening around the edges, and then finally fading away. But before Loki could be swept up in his own spell, he caught a glimpse of his brother. Thor's face was twisted with a look of hurt that tore clean through Loki's heart.
Thor felt his brother's take of leave as painfully as he always did. Loki was gone once more, having slipped literally out of his grasp for what must have been the third time since they had become enemies. But Thor could not bring himself to consider his brother an enemy, even after being injured and deceived by the trickster. He could only hope once more that one of these days Loki would stop running. That he would come home where they could soften the pain that Loki suffered daily, and to heal the grudge he continued to nurse.
A/N: So, good? Bad? Comments? Critique? I'm open to anything!