WARNINGS: There is Major Character Death. Do not let it put you off, this is a Supernatural AU. Everyone dies. And they come back to life.
A/N: Here lies the start of the major plotline of this series. It started to kick off a bit in Don't Want No Money, but this is the real deal starting here.
There's two chapters: Basically, the same event from Loki and Tony's perspectives.
The sequel to this (which won't come as quickly as this) will be called My Religion Is You (I'm A Tough Bitch). And that is where shit will get real. There may be a few one-shots between now and then.
Chapter 1: Don't Get Too Close, It's Dark Inside
Often, when you lose something, you tend to look back on it fondly. The flaws and imperfections of something become ironed out by nostalgia. Some call it the rose-tinted glasses. Loki would have called it stupidity, at least until he realised it was exactly what he'd done.
Now he was a human again, and he realised he'd put a rose-tint on it. Humanity really didn't have many advantages over vampirism, except of course that Loki could eat delicious things and get drunk now.
The disadvantages of humanity, however, were everywhere. Loki was weaker now, slower, and quicker to tire, never mind his pathetically weak senses and his lack of night vision.
Three weeks had gone by since Loki had become a human again, and the white-eyed demon's deal was becoming more and more tempting by the day.
It wasn't just the humanity; it was the ramifications. They'd been on four minor hunts since Loki had been humanised. On all of them, Loki had been clumsy and uncoordinated, unused to his new limits, and thoroughly unable to do anything useful with his scimitar. On the most recent one he'd left it at home so he didn't feel so pathetic holding it. He'd been working out more to try and get used to himself, but his mental reflexes were shot and didn't match his body anymore.
Loki got tired quickly, to his neverending frustration, and he was rather unfit. Human form: not yet accustomed to doing anything.
And things were becoming strained between him and Tony, or so Loki felt; Loki was usually too tired at the end of the day to do much more than just fall asleep, and he felt like he was letting Tony down. After all, their relationship was built on sex.
(Loki being self-absorbed enough to forget exactly how close they'd been recently.)
Plus, Loki woke up every morning with the full knowledge that Thor had sold his soul to give him this.
It wasn't fair!
Then there was the white-eyed demon's deal to think about. She hadn't actually said what she'd do, just that she'd give Thor his soul back if Loki wasn't happy with the deal.
This wasn't normal crossroad demon behaviour. All they cared about was securing souls for hell. Granted, this demon wasn't a normal one, but that didn't make this behaviour any less suspicious. Maybe more, because who knew what her motivations were if not securing souls?
But Loki had wholly lost the will to care, or live.
He'd been living a miserable existence to start with, and now, with the loss of his energy and fight, and what felt like a dissolving relationship with Tony, he was blatantly depressed.
Loki hadn't even seen Thor since their last meeting in his hotel room. He knew he'd just get angry.
What was the point anymore.
One day, one morning when he woke up feeling exhausted and achey-muscled from trying to increase his physical fitness, alone because Tony had risen and gone somewhere without telling him, he saw his scimitar hanging from the doorknob. Mocking.
It was the final straw.
He slowly, humanly climbed from bed and dressed himself, leaving a note for Tony on the dresser. Then he walked out to the Chrysler, opened the boot, unlocked his trunk, and retrieved the box there.
Inside this box was a photo of himself, a pelvic bone from a black cat, and a scattering of graveyard dirt. Loki had made this box for a different purpose a long time ago, and now it would finally be used.
Because as he'd learned, vampires couldn't make deals. But humans could.
He wouldn't take the car; it wasn't fair to leave Tony like that. Instead he walked a few blocks to the main road, cocked his thumb, and was picked up quickly by a pair of young women who'd obviously seen his lithe figure and cheekbones and thought fuck yes.
"Where to, handsome?" One of them asked with a Southern drawl.
"The nearest dirt road." Loki said simply, settling in the back seat with his box.
They tried to talk to him on the way there, tried to find out who he was and what the box was for, but Loki wasn't biting. Eventually they dropped him off on a rough farm track and left, giggling to themselves over his accent.
Loki knew there was a decent chance he'd die today.
Loki didn't care much.
Instead he felt his silver knife on his waist and the box under his arm to check everything was okay, then started the long walk up the dirt road to reach a crossroads.
He'd been walking for an hour or two, the hot sun burning his neck and arms, when another dirt track intersected the one he was on.
He was there.
Bonjour.
As Loki dropped to his knees, staining his jeans, he realised bringing a trowel would have been a good idea.
After a moment to compose himself, he dug his fingers through the dried-solid earth, trying to make a hole big enough. When he had, he put the box in, patted it down, and retreating to the shadow of a skinny, dry tree to wait.
It wasn't long. The white-eyed demon had obviously been expecting him.
She appeared, all bouncy blonde hair and soft pink skin. Looking for all the world like a human being, at least until she saw him and her eyes rolled back in her head leaving just milky white.
"Oh, I thought I'd be hearing from you." She said sweetly.
"Shut it." Loki hissed. "What is the price for Thor's soul returned in one piece?"
"I get you." She smiled. "Name's Amora, by the way. And if you want your beloved brother's soul back, you have to promise me you."
"Yes, but what does that mean?" Loki pressed. "You wish to obtain my soul? Thor's is far purer than mine."
"I didn't say I wanted your soul. In fact, I fully intend to turn you into a vampire again." Her creepy smile widened. "If you ask me. Do you want to be a vampire again?"
Loki bit his tongue. Yes, he did, but saying that he did was a clear show of submission. This all seems too easy.
"Oh, come on, Lokes. I'm just asking if you do. Ask, and thou shalt receive." Amora insisted.
"Rather theological statement for a baby-eating demon." Loki frowned.
"We all have our quirks." She shrugged. "At least you know who I am."
"Famous name." Loki replied. He swallowed his pride and said then "I do prefer vampirism to humanity, truth be told."
"Good boy." Amora said with a flawless smile.
In a wave of her hand, Loki felt his heart stop.
And his lungs.
Everything stopped. He died. And yet he was still alive.
His fangs jutted from his jaw.
The sun seared him.
Loki screamed out in horrible pain, feeling his skin start to scorch in the sunlight.
In a wave of Amora's hand, they were in a stubby, dessicated forest near the motel where Tony and him and had been staying.
Loki staggered under a tree, still crying out as a wave of bloodlust hit him and he threw up last night's pizza and scotch on the ground.
"Stop being such a drama queen." Amora said with a mild fascination at Loki's violent reaction.
Mouth tasting of puke and blood, Loki turned to face Amora, retracting his fangs as he did.
He could smell the faintest trace of sulfur, nothing like the normal demon scent. In fact, it was just like...
The girl that had been killed by the 'rogue vampire'. Amora had been pulling strings for a while, then. Lord knows what she'd done to the human, but it couldn't have been pleasant.
"Here's how it works." Amora said to Loki as the vampire leaned against the tree and tried to reacclimatise himself with vampirism. "I've technically just undone the deal. I will change it back, with the stipulation that Thor owes me his soul now instead of in a year. That's unless you agree to give yourself to me."
Loki kicked himself internally. Fuck shit. She has me now. All I did was create a situation in which I must choose whether it is Thor or myself that dies.
Followed by How did I not see this coming? When did I become so stupid?
And then Thor has so much more to live for than me.
"What would you do with me?" Loki asked. "You made no mention; I know for a fact vampire souls are not exactly a prized currency."
"I'll make it simple." Amora said. "I want you dead. You'll go to the monster afterlife, purgatory. Not only will I have the crown of having beaten Loki at his own game of tricks, but I can get that warm, fuzzy feeling knowing that the other monsters in purgatory will be hunting to hurt you after you killed them on Earth."
Loki thought that over. I'm missing something here. She's clearly a powerful demon; she won't just be here to play games with the Liesmith.
Regardless of her motivations, he was still stuck in this grisly game. "And if I say no, then you will slay Thor with a hellhound and drag him to hell to be tortured and become a demon like you."
"Exactly." Amora crowed, like she'd been tutoring him in maths and he'd gotten the right answer.
Thor would die. Loki knew that. He'd be killed easily by a hellhound, and tortured until he was a shell of his former self, dedicated to roaming the Earth like a bitchy ghost as a demon.
Or, alternately, Loki would die and go to purgatory, which sounded like (by what Amora had said) just a great big cage full of monsters.
He could run, and hide, and outsmart. It wouldn't be that different to his hunting days, or his first couple of years as a vampire. If he was already dead, they couldn't kill him, right?
But if he said no, then Thor would just be tortured. No escape, no reprieve, nothing except eternal damnation.
Thor was a cheerful, brave hunter who loved his family and friends and made a sincere contribution to society.
Loki was a lying, bad-tempered vampire who was trying to balance out his kill stats by hunting, and who was only appreciated by Thor and Tony. Loki was sure Tony didn't like him anymore, and he was doing this for Thor. So essentially he was nothing.
His choice was pretty clear. Thor could live on, maybe even hunt Amora, and Loki would stop burdening Tony and Thor and stop being sad. Tony could go back to hunting with Steve, a much better partner, and Thor could finally let his twisted mess of an adopted brother go.
"Yes." Loki said, standing as tall as he could - eye level with Amora - and making himself sound fearsome.
"Yes, what?" Amora prompted.
"Yes. I am yours." Loki breathed, his bravado already deflating. He wasn't one for confrontations. He preferred to run and lie.
"Excellent." Amora said softly, teleporting Loki to the tree to kiss him gently.
Loki felt a something roil through him as the deal was made. "You know," He said flippantly as she stuck within his personal space awkwardly. "It was a rather cruel trick to tell my brother that sex was required to seal a deal with you."
"How-?" Amora said, scrutinising him.
"Brothers. I can tell." Loki said simply. He didn't want to move without permisson, but he found how close she was standing repulsive.
"Yes, well, I could hardly deny my attraction." Amora snorted. "He's everything you're not, you know that? You're polar opposites."
"I have been made aware, yes." Loki said uncomfortably.
"He likes to be happy. See, Loki, the reason you couldn't be happy with the deal he made was because you like being miserable. You're so fucking self-absorbed you're only happy when you're sad." Amora said, tone vicious. "You were a human! You could've quit hunting, joined a rock band for all anyone cared! Instead you just decided to mope like the spineless worm you are."
Loki knew it was true, but a small part of him protested. Not true. I was happy when Tony and I were getting along.
Amora continued gleefully. "The reason my plan worked, numbskull, was because for all your brains and tricks, you're predictable. So predictable. Otherwise you'd never have talked to those girls in the bar, and wouldn't have had an argument with Tony, wouldn't have bumped into those rats at the morgue, wouldn't have met Thor, and wouldn't have made him think it was a good idea to sell his soul. So now you're my little bitch."
"Just kill me already." Loki growled, angry at her. And at himself for being so pathetic.
"Uh-uh. I thought I could break you a bit first." Amora pouted.
Loki tried to move away from her, but with a wave of his hand he was pinned to the tree with a harsh unknown force she possessed.
There was puke on his shoe. He didn't know why he noticed.
"The best bit is, Loki, you walked right up to me and practically asked for me to do this to you." Amora grinned. "You're a bit of a masochist. Fortunately, you'll get all the pain you want in purgatory. Goodbye, Loki Laufeyson; you were a worthy opponent."
Loki briefly thought of Tony and Thor as Amora biokinetically severed his spinal chord.
It wasn't a beheading, but snapping his neck killed him anyway.
At least they'll be free now, he thought.
A/N: A review or three would be amazing!
