Hello all, well let me just start by saying that I am not much one for comics, but I have watched both Thor and The Avengers enough to know a few things along with what Norse mythology I have stored in my brain. I've never written anything outside of the Naruto universe, so this is new to me, but I loved the idea my girlfriend and I had when role playing all of this, so decided to put it in story form and here we are. And yeah, Loki's scepter was never seen at the end of the movie, but, oh well, something had to be done with it, right? Couldn't just leave it lying around on Earth!
So I hope that you enjoy this, and I hope that no one is too out of character as this goes along. And as far as owning anything goes, I do not own Thor, The Avengers or anything like that.
And Yet So Far
Chapter One
So close…
He was so terribly close—could feel the warmth from the man's hand around his bicep, the thud of his footfalls as he tread behind him, his gaze so hard it became palpable and he could feel it trailing his body. His presence was too overwhelming; all that Thor was, was overwhelming to the point of dizzying breathlessness the likes of which he'd craved so horribly—
Clink. Clink. Clink.
His thoughts stopped wandering and the rhythmic clinking of his restraints was all that Loki allowed himself to recognize any longer as Thor led him by the arm. He gave him a final shove forward and the blonde retrieved the Tesseract from one of his precious Earthling comrades-in-arms—one of those "Avengers". Thor came back to his side after nodding his final goodbyes and that was when they looked at one another. It was only a short moment, but Loki caught the look in the God of Thunder's eyes.
Concern…
He nearly scoffed, but settled for lowering his eyes instead as Thor held up the Tesseract expectantly. He stared at it then glanced up at the Asgardian, noting that his gaze was impassive now. Good; he didn't need Thor's pity, didn't require his care. He could make himself believe he had never seen the restrained pain behind the man's blue eyes. He could, but…
Loki's eyes fell again to the Tesseract and he took an unwilling hold of it, staring deep into its blue core, hoping it would wash his mind of the thoughts. Thor did not care for him. Nobody cared for him. He was Loki, traitor of Asgard. He'd murdered his own kind, and now taken his rage to Earth. Rage he felt only toward one man. He glanced up, but only for a moment to see Thor taking a final glance around them before he activated the Tesseract and the blue glow enshrouded them—transporting them back to their home world.
His home, Loki reminded himself bitterly. Not mine. No. Asgard had never been his, but it came quickly into view around them and once the Tesseract had left his hand, Loki felt himself seized. His arms were jerked roughly, jolting his body as he was forced backward. His eyes met Thor's, glaring in bitter resentment, but looked away just as quickly as they'd met. He didn't want to see that look again. That concern. Concern that was so utterly forced it sickened him.
"No," Thor's halting call had Loki looking up, his interest over the development masked. They regarded one another for a moment before Thor waved the guards off; Loki's eyes narrowed in unspoken question.
"I will take him," he explained quietly, holding the Tesseract for one of the guards to take and Loki's scepter for the other. Loki could feel the hesitation and curiosity in their grasps moments before they let him go, stepping forward to retrieve the weapons before leaving the room they'd been transported to. It was only once they were completely out of sight that things became interesting.
Thor stepped forward again, looking Loki deep in the eyes, his gaze hard—questioning, concerned. Ah, there it was again, but instead of glaring at the man Loki's eyes widened, surprised as the muzzle was removed from his mouth. Surprise that he shed from his expression quickly.
"Brother…" Thor whispered softly, uncertainly, flinching back when Loki glared more menacingly and took a step backwards.
"Don't call me that; we were never brothers. I'm a prisoner," he shook his chains, laughing bitterly at his supposed brother. He wanted to grimace at the word, horrible as it was, but he held himself back. "Isn't it wonderful? The precious son of Odin has captured the pitiful traitor, Loki Laufeyson."
Loki looked down, allowing Thor to take in the sight of him. Defeated. Yes, now Thor could take the glory for himself, for he would no longer be standing in his shadow—attempting to upstage him. No. Thor would be left to stand alone, rule alone.
Blue eyes narrowed at him.
"You are my brother, traitor or not…" Thor said, stepping toward him and grabbing his arm roughly, pulling him closer than Loki had ever dared to imagine they'd be. "Don't speak so poorly of yourself, Brother; you can redeem yourself… You will, I'll help you if I must—"
"Why must you try so hard to redeem me?" he wondered aloud suddenly, green eyes glancing up to meet those of his not-brother. That intense blue that had been staring him down relentlessly, though not with the emotion Loki had found himself dreaming of… He shook his head, clearing those thoughts from his mind. They'd do him no good now.
"Can you not see that I do these things simply because I want—"
"Why must I?" Thor interrupted suddenly, "I care for you—know that you are better than this!" Loki stumbled slightly when he was pushed away gently.
"Why, Brother, why would you want to do these things?" He watched the confusion that spread over Thor's irritatingly handsome face as the man looked away, unable to meet his eyes any longer. "I've tried to understand your motivations, yet I have come to find no answer…"
It was now Loki's turn to lower his head, muttering quietly, "You fool… You want to know why?" He took a step toward Thor.
"Why?" He took another, his head turning upward and eyes glaring maliciously.
"Why!?" with each whisper his voice grew louder, menacing, crazed until he found himself a mere inch away from the man. His brother was unable to see the truth of the situation—unable to see because he didn't want to realize that he and he alone was the reason Loki had done what he had.
Accepting the knowledge of that shattered something within him and Loki's eyes softened for a fleeting moment. "You ask why I do this, but can you truly handle the answer? Have you not seen it's because of you?" His voice turned to a snarl, "You and that weakling Human, Jane!"
Those final words echoed around them and panic spread through Loki as he lowered his head again, trying to brush away what he'd said by opening his arms as wide as his restraints would allow. His emotions – his rage, more namely – had often been getting the best of him since his fall. "Aren't you proud? This is your damned fault, Brot —"
Loki stopped speaking when Thor raised his hand for silence, a disgruntled frown knitting his brow that turned, for only a moment, into a pained grimace when the blonde spoke, "Jane…? What does she have to do with any of this, Brother?"
The look of utter confusion that fell over Thor's face angered him nearly as much as the sound of that woman's name. How dare the man speak her name so easily in his presence; rolling the syllable off his tongue like it was meant to be there. It disgusted him. Anger began to boil in the pit of Loki's stomach as Thor turned away from him, turning back quickly afterward before stepping closer.
"Have you done something to her? …Brother…if you have, tell me now and—"
Those blue eyes narrowed when a wicked smile stretched across Loki's lips as he cut his brother off, "Oh, how I'd love to put her in danger—"
"—Brother—"
"—would take naught but a mere flick of the wrist to dispose of her—"
"I pray you not to harm her; she's done nothing!" Thor finally growled, his eyes leveling into a dangerous glare.
It was so tempting—too tempting; to rid Midgard of the girl... A chuckle, dark and malicious, bubbled deep inside Loki's chest, but he suppressed it, his grin stretching further, unnaturally so. Oh, what would the almighty Thor's reaction be were the woman harmed? The thought—the possibilities made him tremble.
Thor continued on, though, paying his brother's trembling frame no mind as he turned, striding away, "The Humans, those Earthlings had done nothing to warrant your anger! Your qualm is with Asgard—" Thor paused, having turned around to look at him. Almost as quickly as the anger had mounted, it was gone, the man more than likely thinking Loki scared or something akin. "With Father…" he added softly, moving toward him slowly and reaching out.
"With me. Me, Brother, do you understa—"
"Don't touch me!" Loki hissed, jerking away from God of Thunder's attempt at comforting him with a gentle hand on his cheek. "I don't require your comfort."
Thor stepped back half a step hesitantly, withdrawing his hand but keeping it poised before Loki's face in trepidation. "Brother…" he said slowly, shaking his head and opting instead for, "Loki," as his hand moved forward again. Thor's fingertips brushed Loki's cheek before they fell to his shoulder, gripping tightly.
"I want to help you."
"Ah, and yet," Loki replied softly, his face suddenly alight with a mischievous glow as he looked up at the blonde, holding out his hand, not so much in gesture, but more of a reason for shrugging Thor's away. He didn't want to admit—wasn't ready to admit, even to himself, that he was delighted to feel his brother's touch. "You have given no reasons or motives as to why you want to help."
His expression hardened the instant Thor's hand slipped from his shoulder, a piteous laugh breaking from the man's lips. "I care about you—about what happens to you, what more motive do I need? What more do you want? Just ask it of me, Brother!" Thor spread his arms open wide before thumping his hands against his chest, earning him a scoff.
"I offer you anything—everything! What do you desire for me to admit? Ask it, I dare you, and you shall receive it…" another laugh resounded before Thor placed his hand on Loki's chest. It sounded defeated—just as defeated as Thor now looked, staring imploringly at him as his voice fell to a whisper. "I desire to help you because you are my brother, Loki, because, though you think what you wish, I do love and care for you."
Silence rose between them, settling uncomfortably over Loki as warmth seeped through his ragged, bloodied clothing from Thor's hand. His stomach lurched in an unpleasant manner as panic wormed its way into his chest. There was no doubt about this feeling, this crushing wave of heat and longing, this yearning for a touch he knew—knew with unfathomable knowledge that he couldn't take pleasure in. The feeling was dizzying, the urge to lean into that warmth and press against the man, overwhelming. Loki could feel himself becoming undone.
Everything he'd worked so hard for. Every ounce of control. Slipping away, and because of what? This man…? His supposed brother? No, not even that. It was simply because of the false promise that that hand signified to him—the deeper meaning that couldn't have been there because this was Thor, and Thor, despite his words, would never love him. How could he, when Loki couldn't even love himself? And even then, why should he, when he'd done nothing to warrant his affections?
Loki wanted to scoff at that, but his heart trembled at the implication of his own thoughts—thoughts he'd done away with long ago…when he'd fallen from Asgard…when Thor hadn't come in search of him, while yet claiming to mourn a death he'd never truly seen come. He felt it then, the grip on himself returning, so he encouraged the thoughts. Told himself that Thor had never seen him as anything because he was the Almighty, the Beloved, the Golden Child of Asgard…
The only child…
Yet Thor still referred to him as brother. At one time, that word—that title, had meant so much to him. It put him above the rest, Thor's friends and admirers. It placed him, unequivocally, in Thor's heart and mind. That word had always made him forget how the man was favored by their parents—by all of Asgard.
His parents, the small voice in his head reminded.
That word…all it was to him now was another reason to loathe the man before him, unwavering as he awaited Loki's words. Jane had taken his place…the damned quim, but he would take it back… He would see how much Thor was willing to do for his brother.
"Well first, I suppose I would like to be free of these bindings," the remnants of an unheard sigh fell through with his words, laced with relief over regaining himself that sounded more like exasperation toward the persistence of the blonde. He took it in stride and held out his arms expectantly, adding quietly, "If you don't mind."
Thor tilted his head, regarding Loki cautiously, his hand sliding down the raven's chest slowly as he moved to grasp Loki's wrist. He felt his control waver, but the thought of Jane—tempting and corrupting his brother, kept him strong.
"But your trial… How am I to be certain that you won't betray my trust if I remove them?"
Loki smirked darkly, raising an eyebrow, "Are you saying you don't trust me?"
Thor fingers tightened around his thin wrist, quite surely, Loki knew, thinking of the consequences that could befall his actions were he to release him. It was too risky to trust him, surely Thor had learned that by now, but it pleased him to see the uncertainty in the blue eyes. Apparently, Thor still believed in the good that had perhaps lain within his heart at one time or another.
"I am saying…" Thor finally began in a whisper that trailed off just as quickly as it sounded, the same uncertainty wavering in his tone, but Loki knew. Thor would never trust him. He pushed though.
"You offered me everything—anything that I desired, or am I mistaken?"
Satisfaction swept through him as Thor's eyes fell down to where he held him, hesitation in his gaze as he nodded. "I trust you, Brother…" he mouthed in almost inaudible whisper, releasing him from his bindings.
"…I trust you…" he repeated.
Then you are a bigger fool than I'd thought… Loki rubbed his wrists at the thought, regarding Thor for only a moment more before he turned with a flourish of his torn cloak and began to limp up the stairs, not giving explanation for where he was going. If Thor truly trusted him, as he seemed to be making himself believe, then he would require no explanation.
And Thor did indeed let him go, but Loki could feel his eyes on him as he walked further away. His gaze palpable, grazing over his figure, just as it had back on Midgard. Wondering, no doubt, about the mistake he'd just made in letting him walk free.
Anything he did from this moment onward would be completely on Thor's head, he was sure that the man was realizing the implication of that now. He could do anything, be it the simple killing of that Midgardian witch, Jane, or the destruction of that entire cursed world… That world his dear brother seemed too attached to.
Yes, the woman would go first. Then the realm itself, those "friends" of his—those "Avengers" too. He'd eradicate every fading remnant, every last memory and bond Thor held with anything or anyone. Anyone other than him—"Brother, wait!"
Ah, yes, there it was; it had taken a moment, but Loki knew it would come, so the sudden shout came as no surprise to him. He still sighed, though, as he heard the thunderer's quick footfalls come toward him, and nearly, just nearly, turned around to hold out his wrists for his shackles to be reattached. He stood his ground, waiting expectantly, until finally a large hand grabbed at his arm and lifted it… Lifted it and wrapped it around Thor's broad shoulder, relieving the pain that was causing his limp slightly.
Shock bit at Loki, flushing his perfect porcelain skin with a slight tinge of pink. They were too close, Thor's frame overwhelming him with such a simple gesture—a kindness that anyone else would have taken with a smile, leaning into those kind, helping, caring hands. Loki, instead, frowned; he knew how dangerous those hands truly were, what disaster they would ultimately spell for him, for those hands crafted a magic over him that Loki had never chanced understanding.
All he knew was that he needed to get away. In order to protect his pride, keep in Thor's decent graces and not be seen as he truly was, he needed desperately to untangle himself from the blonde god and leave. Flee to his chambers and lock the doors tight.
Only, though he tried to free himself, Thor's grip would not permit his escape, and, horrifyingly enough, Loki could feel that magic of his brother's sweep over him without fail. Making him want to stay—causing him to feel as if he needed to be in the comforting embrace of the man he claimed to loathe so deeply.
Oh, and he did loathe him, though, admittedly, it wasn't for the reasons he was sure Thor assumed. No, surely Thor thought his hatred was borne out of some vain need to gain attention, prove himself to be worthy. And it almost made him chuckle; how Thor could think him to be so shallow was laughable.
"I'm not a child any longer; I will be fine on my own."
"It is not a question of that," Thor replied without pause, "I have freed you; you are my responsibility now, Brother, and I will face the consequences of your actions if you choose to betray my trust. You're hurt, though, and I won't allow you to suffer with your pain."
Loki grimaced when he saw the smile the thunderer directed at him out of the corner of his eye. Grimaced because of how it made him feel—warm, much too warm. Thor's smile was as bright as a sun, and he had always desired to wipe it from his lips, drag him into the darkness with him. Yank him to where he slumbered so that Thor would understand just what those smiles did to him, just what his merest touch could arouse in his body.
He wanted nothing more than to show this man—his brother, just how monstrous he truly was. Just what he desired and how he craved to take it, only so that he could dim that smile, that infuriatingly beautiful smile.
All he did do, though, was lay down in the face of Thor's determination, crushing every unfound thought and sinful desire as he shook his head and allowed Thor to lead him to his rooms. Rooms, he noticed with a slight delighted thrill as they entered, that had not been touched—that had patiently awaited his return.
A frown creased his features almost instantaneously as the thought crossed his mind. Because that couldn't have been the case. No, what sounded more likely was that they had been forgotten. Left alone as if they didn't exist, because they'd all wanted nothing more than to erase what little traces of life he'd left behind. Rid themselves of his mere memory.
And why wouldn't they? He was a monster. Feared—loathed, utterly disgusting to all who knew of him. For he alone was the myriad of nightmarish things that parents warned their children about before bed. Beheld as a monstrosity to every species. Even his own.
The thought settled bitterly in his chest and he pulled himself from Thor's grasp. A grasp which, Loki noticed painfully, had only loosened once the door to his room had clicked shut behind them.
Left alone now in his chambers, Loki knew that it was beginning to dawn on Thor—knew that the realization would come all too soon and shatter what little illusion he'd fallen for in his foolishness. How could Thor not, when surrounded by the memories of their childhood? A childhood that had been nothing but a lie, that had spurred him to greater heights, into a impassioned rage about something that cut deeper than falling into the Golden Child's shadow. Rage that had driven him to the edges of his clinging sanity, until he'd finally fallen, resolving quickly to obliterate Midgard and the woman who had poisoned his brother, his Thor…
His Thor, the man who would now hold visions of him as he truly was—would now see how far he'd fallen into the darkness and curse the day he'd ever referred to him as his brethren. He'd open his mouth, that stupidly grinning mouth, and rain his newly found hatred that followed his mind opening experience down upon him, just as he was sure Thor would rain blows upon his body with the help of Mjölnir.
He'd part those pink lips, the ones he'd licked and bit at far too often as children when he was nervous or under Loki's own harsh gaze. He'd part them any moment and show his false brother no mercy. He'd disgrace him. Denounce him; toss him aside like everyone else had and give up on him. Just like everyone else…
Any moment now…
But as the seconds ticked by in silence, the moment never came. Loki's eyes narrowed dangerously, lowering to search the tiles of his floor with a skittering, confused gaze.
Why?
It was the only thought going through his mind. Why did Thor refuse to speak? The man had never wasted a moment before to tell whoever would listen exactly what he thought about anything. So why, now, did he keep his silence? When it was only the two of them, shut away in his chambers…
"I'm going to change," Loki announced sharply, stalking away from Thor and leaving his spiraling thoughts behind as he slammed shut the door to his dressing room.
"Brother…" Of course now would be when the oaf chose to speak; when he thought Loki incapable of hearing.
So Loki chose to ignore Thor's whisper as he slowly stripped himself of his ruined clothing, wincing slightly as his fingers ran over the bruises and scrapes he'd been gifted as souvenirs from his encounter with Hulk. He touched his magic to the wounds, healing himself while a scowl marred his features.
Thor was rummaging through his things.
"When did this happen to you?" the voice sounded from a ways away. The other side of the room, Loki assumed confidently. "You used to be happy… I know it to be so, I remember it… So tell me, Brother, when did you begin to slip away? We have all been here…"
There was a pause, then the clattering of something hitting the floor before footfalls approached Loki's dressing room door. Green eyes watched the door interestedly as he heard Thor's hand fall heavily upon the intricately carved surface of the wood.
"I have been here, so why…?" Loki could hear the sound of Thor's hair brush against his door as he shook his head in frustration. "Why did you never share your unhappiness with me? I would have… I would have helped you, Brother."
Helped me? You?! Loki scoffed quietly, pulling a plush robe on over his emerald silk shirt. Thor's words were rather laughable, and perhaps he would've let a little chuckle go had they not burned him so deeply. The ignorance carried through in that damned concerned tone of Thor's branded through his flesh and bone, boiling his blood with an icy fury. Because when had Thor ever helped him? To that, there was no answer.
There was no answer because Thor never had. Not even in the face of his hesitant whispers to his brother in the middle of the night when he'd taken to the elder's bed, unable to sleep. Each plea to stop those unkindly friends of his from torturing him had fallen on deaf ears, Thor's only response ever being that they were only teasing him and to not pay it any mind.
But Loki had always known the truth. They had all come to know of his dirty secret, though how, he still didn't know. And though they had all ridiculed him for their own separate reasons, Loki had always seen the look that hid beneath the surface—just underneath their cruel malevolence that often affirmed to him his deepest fears.
Disgust.
"I had tried to, Thor, don't you remember…?" Loki whispered finally, giving his head the lightest shake to rid himself of the hurtful memories, of the proof that Thor would never have helped. "Yet you were always out doing battle and reaping the spoils of your victories. Always too engrossed with your own self to listen to the scared, pleading cries of the brother you claimed so much devotion for!" Loki spat angrily, quickly schooling his rising temper by taking a pause and playing with the cord on his robe, twirling it between his long fingers before letting it drop back to hang at his side.
"And it would have never been any other way. I was but a mere shadow in your glory, after all."
"Brother…" Thor's voice wavered as he spoke the single word and Loki could hear the sigh that broke on his lips after it. In the face of the truth, Thor could say nothing—could now no longer deny the fact that he'd done this to his supposed brother. That he alone had pushed him to the edges of himself.
Because, if he had only helped… Only offered him a kind word to relieve him of his fears, if only for one night… Perhaps then, perhaps none of it would ever have happened.
"It was never my intention to shadow you, for I've always seen you as nothing lesser than my equal."
Green eyes closed in a twisted wrath of wicked emotions as Thor pushed himself away from the door, the sounds of his pacing footsteps echoing louder than the man's next words inside Loki's scrambled and diseased mind.
"I was never able to achieve the great things you had…"
Because of course, of course, that is what Thor would take this as. A final, bitter plea for something he'd never truly wanted in the first place. But he listened to the man go on about things that had never mattered to begin with. Oh, perhaps at one time they had—perhaps as children he'd been jealous, but Thor had always made up for the lack of attentions he'd received from their parents – his parents – and the citizens of Asgard.
He had never truly felt shadowed, but even with his brother by his side Loki had always felt so alone.
"You, dear Brother, you outshine me by far…"
He heard those final words break through his tortured consciousness and a thought struck him, bitter and weaving himself back into his lies with ease: Of course I do, you Neanderthal. His eyes opened, expression neutral as he stood and slowly opened the door separating him from Thor.
Loki regarded the blonde god for a moment before speaking, not entirely unable to keep the angered sneer from his tone, "Do you simply say that to assuage my anger?"
"Not entirely, no."
Something fluttered within him – something he adamantly refused to acknowledge as being his heart, or anywhere near it – as he took in the sight of Thor's serious gaze, a gaze that had been set to him far too often since the days of their youth when Thor had taken part in his trickery. A gaze that had not lightened in harshness since Loki'd taken a fancy to laying waste to that realm that Thor so loved.
But now those eyes held something different, Loki noticed idly as his own eyes roamed over the Golden Child's face, his neck, following the slight curve of his hunched shoulders as he sunk down heavily onto Loki's bed to where his hands rested in his lap.
And there is was. That flutter. Loki pulled his eyes away as quickly as they'd fallen, training his green to Thor's blue.
That was when he saw it.
Desperation.
A smirk threatened to tug at his lips. It couldn't be this simple though, could it? Lie-smith or not, this was Thor, and even Thor couldn't…
But it was there, unadulterated in his false brother's eyes.
Desperation.
No, Thor is the easiest to fool…
Loki stepped forward then, moving slowly to sit next to his not-brother, appearing as though he were trying to gauge the truth in Thor's words. He wasn't. Truth or not, Loki cared not for the useless sentiments Thor had offered, because not a word spoke even an ounce toward what he truly wanted.
An acceptance of the part he had played in his fall.
An apology for all those nights as children when Thor had refused to help him, and those days… Those days when the tormenting had driven him to the bridge of the Bifrost, ready to jump into the waiting waters below it and be swallowed up—ready to escape the pain that had seemed, even then, to be never ending.
When Loki finally decided to break his silence, it was with the words he knew Thor wanted to hear, "I don't…deserve your kindness. I never have."
"You're my brother, Loki, despite everything," the soft smile that Thor offered him pulled at Loki, making him remember the way that Thor used to beam at him after a successful trick. The warmth that it had filled him with, that had always chased away his yearn for the icy bite of the raging sea below that beautiful bridge.
"You deserve everything that I can give you, and more."
Thor's hand reached over and patted Loki's in gentle reassurance, though of what, Loki was not exactly sure; too distracted by the warmth of that hand. Of that damned flutter, of the emotions that churned within him at the simple fleeting touch.
But Thor's words stuck with him through it all, and, for once, he admitted how correct the man was. He did deserve everything the man could give. And he would take it.
That was the last thought Loki could remember having before he pushed himself forward, feeling his lips mesh with Thor's in a quick kiss before he pulled away. The flutter had turned into a pounding. His whole body reverberated with it—with the knowledge of what he had just done.
Of what truths he had just allowed Thor to become privy to.
Thor, who was looking utterly confused and taken aback by Loki's actions as Loki stood and began moving away from his bed and the man upon it. The man he had always wished to be upon it, though, in his dreams, that was never the look he'd ended up receiving in response to his kiss.
"What was…? Why did you…?"
Words failed him, just as they always had and forever would, and Thor brought his fingers to his lips. His eyes, Loki noticed with a sharp stabbing pulse of that pounding beat in his body, staring around the room—looking anywhere but at Loki as he tried to comprehend what had just happened.
Loki tried to comprehend it himself.
What had he done?
"Broth…" Thor stopped himself, finding his voice much more quickly than Loki had expected, and shook his head. "Loki…" he opted for instead.
The pounding turned into a crushing force that beat him down with the echo of that word, that simple word—his name. The name Thor rarely ever saw need to use unless he was angered, but Loki had heard that unmistakable tone… The one everyone in Asgard had taken to using with him from a very young age, when his true heritage should have become more apparent to him.
Thor was meaning to distance himself with the use of that word—from the situation that had just reared its head on them. And Loki would admit, though never aloud, that it hurt more than he'd ever thought possible.
"Out," he finally whispered bitterly, dropping his head as he heard Thor stand and step toward him. "Get out…" he repeated, backing away, pushing himself to move the few inches so that his broth–no, so that Thor would perhaps, just this once, do as he requested.
Thor refused Loki's silent urgings though he kept his distance as he looked imploringly at the man he called his brother. "Why did you…do that?" he asked, his voice a husky, confused whisper.
Menacing green eyes shot up to glare at the man opposite him as the question filled the silent space between them.
"I shall not repeat myself—"
"And I shall not ask you again, Loki! Explain your actions!"
Thor's voice boomed through the room like the thunder he reigned over as he stepped forward, now far too frustrated as Loki continued to disregard his questions to keep away from him.
Loki refused to seem intimidated when he saw Thor approach him, straightening himself with great strain as his body thrummed to an unpleasant drumbeat. He winced when Thor grabbed his arms roughly, though not unexpectedly.
"Explain," the deep growl commanded quietly, close enough to make his point, though Loki still took notice of the vastness between them. Most likely afraid that he'd kiss him again, a part of Loki pointed out quietly. So finally, he answered, but not how the man had wished.
No explanation spilled from his lips as Loki pushed Thor hard enough to at least take himself a step away. "Why do you feel the need to humiliate me further?" he inquired lowly, his voice, though even, still carrying a poisonous bite. "Isn't this enough for you?" he asked, throwing his arms open wide.
"What more do you require?!"
"I require an explanation," Thor replied, his voice softening the slightest bit as a sort of sympathy crossed over his features. Sympathy Loki took only to be pity.
"It is not my intent to humiliate you, Loki; I merely wish to understand…"
Loki scoffed, turning his head in disgust at the words—disgust he felt for himself and for the situation he'd gotten himself into. Disgust that reminded him of the look in those taunting eyes all those years ago, and the disgust that remained today, but now in the eyes of every citizen of the place he had once considered his home.
"What more is there to understand?"
Thor reached out carefully, touching Loki's shoulder, but was immediately shrugged off as he flinched at the warm touch.
"What more do you want me to say?" Loki yelled softly, his voice growing hoarse around his pent up emotions. "That this is why? That these…" he paused, unable to put words to that thought, instead saying, "That you, Brother, are why? Is that what you'd like?" He watched Thor from under his lashes as he bowed his head, finally sighing when no sound or movement came from the larger man.
"Take it and leave me then, I'm tired of you looking at me so piteously!"
"Me?" Thor spoke finally, sounded perplexed by his words, "What have I done?"
Those words were all it took. The memories washed over Loki, one agonizing moment after the next, and his eyes narrowed at the floor.
"What have you done…?" he repeated Thor's question, voiced lowered now to a dangerous growl.
"What have you done?!"
The taunts, the glares, the knowing eyes of Thor's comrades. The warm blankets of his brother's waiting bed, the soft touches that let his nightmares flee, but that belonged to the person who refused to acknowledge his pain. The whispered promises, shattered dreams, broken heart when he'd seen him with Jane.
Those deep, black, churning waters of the swirling sea below the bridge…
Memories carved into his very soul, all tracing back to the one man before him.
Loki shook his head, stepping toward Thor angrily, his fist raised, "What haven't you done!?"
Thor took a step back, his eyes going wide at the look on Loki's face—at the words screamed at him in unimaginable, heart wrenching agony. "Loki…I," it was all Thor could say for a long moment.
"I don't understand what I could have done to make you hate me so, Brother."
The word. The simple word, the title he'd grown so attached to, and so despised at the same time, softened him and Loki faltered. He took back the step he had gone forward in anger. Of course you don't…
Loki turned toward his bed and walked to it. "Just… Go, Thor," he finally whispered, holding his hand up in Thor's direction to keep him from speaking.
But, of course, that wouldn't stop him, "No, Brother, I—"
"GO!"
"NO!"
Thor embraced him tightly from behind, letting his chin come to rest on Loki's shoulder.
"Please, Brother…" Thor pleaded quietly as Loki sighed.
It was fleeting, but there. The first scant traces of the powers Thor possessed – magic that Thor hadn't been gifted, and could, in no reasonable sense, actually retain – tingled through his body. Loki knew how hopeless a plight it would be to struggle against it, but he'd fallen victim to the strange, almost unnatural warmth of the god behind him far too many times in the past. This time, he wouldn't allow Thor to have such control over him.
He wouldn't, he couldn't. He shouldn't. Loki mustered everything he had left in him to stop himself before he melted. He wouldn't… Not this time. No, he couldn't, not now when Thor still didn't realize…
He shouldn't have, and yet…
"Why must you do this to me…?"
Loki never even realized the whisper left the realm of his thoughts because the only thing he could focus on was how Thor's warmth left him flinching at the sudden cold that attacked his skin when the man turned him around. Loki wasn't sure what to expect, but he was sure it wasn't what happened. Thor pushed him down onto his bed before kneeling on the floor in front of him. Between his legs.
Like it was the most natural thing in the world.
"What have I done, Brother?" he asked quietly, catching Loki's blood aflame when his hands settled gently on the still bruised knees. "I beg you to share your reasons with me."
Green eyes became lidded quickly with a shame Loki hadn't felt in centuries as he turned his head with a pitiful shake. Here was Thor, before him like a pup begging its master for a scrap, just how he'd wanted him so many times in the past. On his knees, between his thighs, waiting for his word—his command…
But he himself was waiting and fearful, needing the man's scalding touch to ghost across his skin as he whispered to him that this was okay, that he had no reason to doubt that what he felt was wrong. Because Thor would assure him, Thor would…
No. No, no, of course not.
Thor would do as Thor always had: Nothing.
The weight of that sunk deeper into Loki's gut and the pounding force that had been beating away inside him turned hollow. He pushed Thor's hands away without another thought, but Thor caught them in his own, grasping them tightly and effectively drawing Loki's gaze back.
By the way those blue eyes stared back into his own green, Loki could, quite confidently, say that the look Thor had seen in his eyes wasn't what he'd wanted.
"Thor… I will only say this once more: Go."
The defeat washed over him, threatening to break him just as it had when he was a child, and his head dropped down, chin hitting his chest, the word slipping from his mouth like a death sentence.
"Please."