Respite

A man with long black hair walked through the park. He was dressed in mortal clothes, and no one recognized him.

A man with dark brunet hair sat on a bench. He was in casual wear instead of any kind of suit, and no one recognized him, either.

The walking man paused, looked out at the pond beside the sidewalk. So quaint it was, so calm and still. So different from what his life on the run had become.

The sitting man stared at the pond, but saw memories far beyond it. His life on the run had cost him so much more than he'd first thought.

The standing man stopped to rest, and the two were now seated on the same bench. They sat in opposite corners, noted each other's presence, but didn't acknowledge it.

The newcomer noticed the newspaper lying between them. He slid it an inch closer and read the headline. Rogue Norseman Destroys Manhattan. He scoffed. All the trouble he'd caused, and they still couldn't give him the courtesy of calling him a god.

He eyed the headline columned beside it. Bomber Terrorizes Gotham; Masked Vigilante Kills Five.

Rolling his eyes, he caught a glimpse of the other man's expression, lost across the water. It was too familiar. "What happened to you?" he asked.

"What do you mean?" Didn't even look him.

The paler of the two shrugged. "I've seen that look before." No reply. "You look lonely."

Blue eyes slid to him. "You know about being lonely?"

Green eyes slid away. "Only too well."

"More than I do?"

A knowing breath. "Most likely."

"I doubt it."

The god turned, intrigued. "Try me."

The billionaire turned fully as well. "Well, my parents were killed before my eyes."

The god raised his eyebrows. "My parents turned out not to be my real parents, but instead had stolen me from my real parents after defeating them in war and killing much of my race. I then put my fake father in a coma, tricked my real father into killing him, only to betray him at the last second and kill my real father, and turn right back around and attempt to murder the rest of my race. Until I was thrown into space by my fake brother and fake father."

The billionaire's brow never lifted. "So then what'd you do?"

A nonchalant shrug. "Got a magic staff and an army from some aliens to conquer a kingdom of my own. A plan foiled in part thanks to my fake brother. Who then sent me back to my fake parents so they could punish me."

A silence, as the storyteller attempted to gauge his audience's reaction. Said audience studied the man before him.

He broke the silence. "Sounds rough."

The god gave a dry nod. "Yeah, thanks." He watched the other man lean back on the bench, eyes on the water again. "What about you?"

A sigh escaped from the billionaire. "I couldn't kill the man who killed my parents, so I traveled the world and learned how to be a ninja. Then I went back home and beat up some criminals at night to scare them all. Saved the city a few times, but they ended up hating me anyway."

The god leaned back as well, adopting the same position. They sat in silence for a while. Who knew if he believed what he was saying. Who knew if he recognized him. The nonsensical atmosphere they'd painted between them was almost comical.

The god realized this. He shook his head. "You try to make things right, and they still see you as the villain."

"Exactly."

The god turned his head to the other, the left corner of his mouth slanted in a resigned half-smile. "As the saying goes, I feel you."

A rare grin rose to the billionaire's lips. After a few seconds, the god stood to leave.

"So, I'm having a party tonight," the brunet said. "Care to drop in?"

The god turned, a bit surprised by the invitation. Yet not surprised at all. "What's the occasion?"

"Tony Stark's in town. I wanted to welcome him properly."

His face fell. "Oh. No thanks, then." A brow furrowed over blue eyes in curiosity, but the green eyes averted contact, looked at the water instead. He answered only with a disgruntled "Stark and I have a history."

"Oh, alright. Shame."

The billionaire leaned back into the bench, and the god started on his way. Both wondering the same thing. Instead, Bruce simply said, "See you around, then?"

Loki stopped, flashed him a grin. "See you around."

And both princes went their separate ways.

A/N: Yes, I'm back. No, a year's worth of hiatus from fanfiction is not excusable. Yes, 'Always and Always' and 'Chaos Theory' are a go. No, I don't know when they'll be updated next, because that all depends on how catatonic TDKR renders me after seeing it tomorrow night. Yes, I'm also planning a trilogy of Avengers fics, which will include tons of Thor/Loki goodness. Yes, I'm also mixing around ideas of a Sherlock fic, but I've yet to get a grasp on that particular storyline properly.

And no, I will not apologize for this horrendous state of mind that my Hiddleston, Cumberbatch, and TDKR feels have sent me into, and thus produced this vomit of a fic for the sake of my fangirl frenzy. It's 5am, I'm exhausted as hell, and I regret nothing. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a Batwoman costume to complete before tomorrow's midnight premiere.