Thor looked over at his little brother, who had nodded off a little over half an hour ago.
He had to hand it to him though, the kid had held strong as long as he could.
It was now a little after two in the morning and Thor himself was beginning to tire. And considering everything that happened that day, he was rather surprised the boy hadn't conked out earlier.
Even now, in the dark of his car the bruising on his baby brother's face was prominent. The large purple marks standing out even clearer every time they passed by one of the passing streetlights.
Which this far out of town were few and sparse.
Had his brother still been talking, he might have urged the boy to stay awake. To join in conversation, to help keep himself awake. Unfortunately, Loki's voice had locked itself away not long after their mother's death, he spoke to no one now, not even his own brother.
Thor hoped they might run across a reasonably cheap motel some time soon, as he let out another yawn. The last thing he needed was to fall asleep at the wheel and crash out here on this long quiet stretch of highway. Honestly, he hadn't seen another car for almost three hours now.
He had no idea where they were headed. It was a spur of the moment idea, really. One that seemed too good to waste at the time.
So he hadn't really had time to plan.
Their father had changed after they lost their mother, became more aggressive. Odin had always been a rather intimidating man, but after the death of his wife, his anger started to become more physical and after the beating their father had given Loki this morning, he knew they had to get out.
He could tolerate it when his father took his anger out on him, he was built incredibly sturdy for someone who was only three months off seventeen. The hits did him little damage, but when the man turned on Loki that was a different story.
The boy was only just turned ten and his thin, frail frame didn't take the blows so well.
And spending the day at the hospital, getting X-rays and waiting for the swelling to go down, so they could get a cast for his baby brother's fractured wrist had been the last straw.
"Go upstairs and start getting some clothes together." He said, as they finally returned from the hospital.
Their father was still at work, he wouldn't be home for another three hours.
Loki stopped picking at his new green cast, looking up at his brother, as he entered the entrance hall.
"Go." He repeated, as he opened the closet in the hall, moving a few boxes to reach the suitcases stored behind.
Loki's features twisted in concerned confusion at his brother's actions, reaching out his hand in question.
"Please, brother." He pleaded, pulling the suitcases down and grabbing his brother's school bag from the hanger on the wall, dumping its contents onto the floor.
His brother gave a quiet grunt of annoyance as he kneeled down, in an attempt to pick his things off the floor. Grabbing Loki's shoulder, he pulled him back to his feet, handing Loki his back pack, grabbing both suitcases and urging Loki to the stairs.
"Pack what ever you can, we're leaving in an hour." He stated, following his brother to his room and placing one of the suitcases on his bed. Leaning forwards and ruffling his concerned brother's dark locks. "Do not worry brother, I shall keep you safe."
And so they found themselves in Thor's old red 67 impala, though you would hardly know the thing was red it was covered in so much dirt, rust and wear. With only what they could fit in two suitcases, a duffle bag and a backpack. No destination and little more than five hundred dollars.
The thought that he had acted too hastily, that he should have waited until he had a plan. Somewhere to go. Plaguing his mind.
He worried he may have made the wrong choice.
Though all it took was one look at his muted baby brother. At the ugly dark purple bruises littering his alabaster skin and the thick green cast on his right wrist. And all of that melted away.
This was the right decision.
He knew it, deep in his heart.
