What Home Looks Like

Disclaimer: I do not own Marvel, Supernatural or any form of Norse mythology or anything else I reference throughout this work, they all belong to their respective owners.

Warnings: Suicidal themes, bullying, abandonment issues.

A/N: So, just for the record, I adore Destiel and Thorki, but I couldn't help thinking about how great Loki and Dean would be as a pairing so this is what my mind came up with, I hope you enjoy it x

Chapter One: Fire and Ice

"Loki, what have you done?"

Loki glanced around the banquet hall, Thor was across the table laughing with Sif and Fandral and he looked down at his own plate; empty. Not because he had finished eating but because he had never started. He couldn't possibly eat, how could he possibly eat? Seeing Thor sat across the room, laughing and joking as if nothing was wrong.

"Loki, Loki...No!"

Loki stood with a start, surprising the few Asgardians sat beside him.

"Brother...?" Asked Thor, his concern masked by his elation at the evenings celebrations.

"Don't feel you need to make a scene at every event." Fandral said lazily, popping a grape into his mouth. Loki would have loved to walk over to him and shut up his smug little mouth for once but if he reacted every time someone make a quip at him then he would be surrounded by bodies.

"I was merely leaving, Brother." Loki informed him, "excuse me if I startled you, it must be the excitement." The latter part of his sentence was so monotone in expression that it was clear to Thor that something was wrong.

As Loki stole his way through the crowd, Thor caught his mother's eye, who had been slightly withdrawn all evening. Seeing the concern in her eyes, Thor realised what had irked his brother so.

"Curses." Thor mumbled quietly to himself.

"Thor," began Sif reproachfully, "don't let Loki's attitude anger you, he just wants attention."

Thor shook his head. "No, I have been insensitive." He let his head drop into his hands, suddenly overcome with a feeling of guilt he could not chase away.

"Thor, what is wrong?" Asked Sif, and Thor nearly confessed but his promise to Loki held him back.

"Nothing, my lady." Thor replied, taking her hand in his and kissing it softly. She looked entirely too pleased with this so he retracted his hand as politely as possible and excused himself. He sent a reassuring look to Frigga and she smiled sadly back.

…

Loki pushed the doors to his shower room open so roughly they threatened to break off the hinges. He stopped in front of the reflected glass, staring at his reflection for a long moment. He pressed his fingers through his dark hair, falling too long around his shoulders. Uncovering a hair tie from the side, he quickly tied his hair back out of his face and rested against the basin.

He sighed to himself, he would never understand why Asgardian's felt the need to celebrate every minor victory, so Thor had defeated some fire demons, so what? It was his job, after all. Loki never got congratulated on protecting the throne of Odin. But then no one ever really cared for Loki anyway.

To the point where they would feast and make merry on the anniversary of his...

"Loki...LOKI! You, find mother! Loki, wake up...!"

He closed his eyes momentarily, he wasn't so much haunted by the events as he was by the fact that all he could hear ringing through his mind was Thor's voice, calling him back from the darkness, and yet all he could see was Thor's face, laughing, eating, having totally forgotten.

"Loki."

Loki swiveled in shock, recognising that rumbling voice. Thor was stood awkwardly in the doorway, Mjolnir hanging uselessly by his side.

"What do you want?" Loki asked, trying to compose himself quickly so Thor would not notice he had startled him.

Thor walked into the wash room without invitation. "You wear your hair back." He observed.

Loki rolled his eyes. "Goodness, Thor. If you have come to chastise me for making a bad exit from the feast, then please, get it over with, I'm not in the mood."

"Of course you're not." Thor told him, he suddenly looked so sincere that Loki found it hard to be mad at him. "I'm sorry for forgetting."

Loki sighed and shook his head. "I don't blame you, I try and forget as well, some nights are more successful than others."

"This night." Thor observed.

"Thor, I don't really want to talk about this. Look, go back to the feast, enjoy your celebrations."

"Are you sure?" Asked Thor skeptically.

"Yes," Loki continued, "please, go."

Thor hesitated for a moment before nodding to Loki and leaving. The minute he was gone, Loki began to shed his armour, wishing to crawl into bed and try and forget the evening. He turned back to the glass and and looked at his bare chest, in the harsh light of the wash room, the faint scar was visible.

A year ago today, Loki had succumbed to yet another serpent insult and decided, in a moment of madness, to bury his sceptre is his chest.

He remembered Thor finding him and screaming at him and nothing more. Now all he had was this faint scar, this bad memory and this date. Where people would rather celebrate a minor victory than offer him a few words.

Loki shook his head. These people will never do anything for you. He reminded himself. Don't forget that.

…

All these years, Loki had felt different and never understood why and now he knew, it was so obvious he almost felt like an idiot for not realising it before. And he tried, he tried to come back from it and do something positive and surprise, surprise, he had got it wrong again.

The metal of his sceptre handle was cold and his knuckles were white as he gripped it tightly, Thor's eyes were so full of fear that Loki could barely look up to him.

"I could have done it, father!" Loki called up, the wind rushing around him and the exhilarating fear he felt at hanging, quite literally, from the rainbow bridge muffled his words.

"No, Loki." Was all Odin said, and Loki felt every piece of himself fall away, so naturally, he followed.

Thor screamed as Loki dropped through the air, his fingers slipping from the handle of the sceptre. He felt surprisingly calm as he was enveloped.

…

Dean Winchester downed his drink and wondered why everyone he ever loved was doomed to leave him. It had definitely not been his week.

He was finding it hard adjusting to life outside of purgatory, when he was exposed to that degree of violence, of fighting for survival every day, life was surprisingly simple.

It was when he had made it back that things had become complicated.

He ordered another drink and looked around the desolate bar he had wound up in, he shook his head to himself, trying to rid his mind of the memories he was drinking to forget.

But all he could see in his mind was Cas letting go of his hand as he fell through the portal, and Sam's face when he told him he didn't look for him.

He remembered how strangely alone he had felt after that, the two people in his life, Sam and Cas, had let him down and he didn't know what to do with that.

All he had had was Benny, this vampire that cared more for him than his family. Now Cas was off doing God knows what with heaven and Sam was hell bent on completely these demon trials. Benny had been the only one he could really talk to.

But then Sammy just had to go and get himself trapped in hell, and Benny had to sacrifice his goddamn life to save him, for Dean.

Benny, he thought to himself in a silent toast as he downed the new drink.

Everyone is going to leave you. His brain decided to chip in, dejectedly, Dean stood and walked out of the bar.

He wasn't drunk, it took more than a few shots to get him drunk nowadays, so he walked through the darkened car lot back to the Impala.

He stopped when he heard a muffled moan from beneath him. He looked down and saw a man lying in the car lot, just lying there.

"Hey, what are you doing?" Dean asked, but he got no response. He checked around himself and, feeling the comforting weight of the demon knife in his belt, started towards the figure.

The first thing Dean noticed about him was that he was dressed really weirdly, he was wearing a kind of leather trench coat thing that was green and gold in places, it looked like armour.

He had longish dark hair that fell like a halo around his pale face, features lax.

Unconscious.

Dean looked around again, there was no one else here. Part of his mind was telling him to just leave this mystery man here, he couldn't trust anyone, after all.

He began to walk away but another quiet moan pulled him back and he sighed. He supposed he wasn't completely heartless yet.

Trying to be as gentle as possible, Dean pulled the unconscious mystery man to his feet and deposited him in the back seat, driving towards the bunker.

…

Loki woke with a start, he knew immediately something was wrong, he sensed it. He looked around the strange room, felt the strange bed beneath him. He jumped off of the bed quickly and searched for his sceptre, but of course he didn't have it with him.

He frowned, he'd left it...he'd fell...He suddenly remembered what had happened, he remembered falling.

Loki looked down at his hand, clenching his fingers together.

"I'm alive?" He asked quietly.

Loki stood back as the door suddenly opened and a man walked in. He was around 30 years old, he was tall with short, dark hair and slightly tanned skin sporting a plaid shirt and ripped jeans. Loki took in his odd appearance.

"Human?" He asked.

The man fixed him with a quizzical stare. "Look, I tested you. You're not a demon." He explained.

Loki's brow furrowed. "What? I'm not a demon? Of course I'm not."

The man said nothing.

"What happened?" Loki asked. "Where am I?"

"I found you unconscious in a parking lot," he explained, "and you're in Kansas."

Loki processed for a moment. Midgard. He had fallen to Midgard. How odd.

"Are you okay?" The man asked, sounding concerned. Loki looked up, pulled out of his thoughts.

"Err...yes, I'm fine. Thank you for...helping me."

The man looked down at the floor for a moment, unsure of what to say until Loki's grumbling stomach broke the silence.

Loki felt himself go red. "Oh, apologies. My...trip...fatigued me."

Dean fixed him with that same quizzical look as before, was this guy straight from the 20's or something? Fatigued?

"I'll fix you something." Dean told him, going to walk out of the room.

The strange man looked confused for a second until he seemingly understood what he meant. "Oh, no, don't worry..."

Dean waved him off. "No, don't worry. I'm starving, myself. There's a bathroom down the hall if you want to use it."

When he had left the room, Loki stood awkwardly. Why was this stranger offering him such kindness? Humans weren't like that, not in his experience.

He walked to the bathroom and caught sight of himself in the mirror and groaned. He looked gaunt in the face, even paler than usual, his eyes were a shade darker and his hair was mussed.

He searched around in his armour for a hair tie but could not produce one and concluded that the good Samaritan of Kansas would not have one considering how short his hair was. Loki raked his fingers through his raven hair to try and straighten it out slightly, he felt hot in his armour. Too hot.

He eased his trench coat off, limbs heavy, he struggled momentarily with the clasps that attached the garment to his tunic. He had always longed for less complicated clothing but he supposed it was better than being constantly swathed in metal like Thor.

He walked out of the bathroom to the wafting smell of meat and followed his nose to a sort of conference room with a large table in the middle. The Samaritan of Kansas was stood beside the table, placing two bottled drinks next to the plates, Loki cocked his head to the side. He supposed this was an aesthetically pleasing human. He had pulled his sleeves up and his exposed forearms were muscular, although not rock hard as Thor was. He looked up as Loki entered.

Dean raised his eyebrows. The mystery man had taken off his trench coat was was wearing a tunic that exposed his arms, the rest of him seemed as pale as his face, he was surprisingly lithe for someone wearing armour.

The pair stood for a moment, staring at each other.

"I'm Loki, by the way." He said.

Of course. Dean thought to himself.

"I'm Dean." Dean replied, gesturing to the table. Loki walked forward and sat down beside him, surveying the odd food in front of him.

"What?" Asked Dean, seeing Loki staring. "Something wrong?"

"No," Loki told him, "sorry, I haven't been here for a while, the food is a little alien to me."

"Dude, you're really odd." Dean told him, shaking his head and grinning slightly.

Loki suddenly felt a lot more comfortable and watched as Dean picked up the food and brought it to his mouth, Loki followed him, picking up the bread, careful not to let the meat in the middle slide out, and took a bite.

"Wow." He said after a moment, "this is good."

Dean didn't answer but turned his head away slightly.

"What is it?"

Dean had to fight to stop himself laughing out loud, this guy was obviously disorientated and he didn't want to openly take the piss out of him. Besides, if anyone knew what it was like to find yourself in the middle of nowhere then it was Dean.

"It's called a burger." He explained, watching as Loki took another bite. He squinted.

"It's much better than some of the food on Asgard."

"What?" Asked Dean, "Asgard?"

Loki looked at him, his blue eyes were suddenly wide, like he was assessing the situation before him.

Dean realised that he may have picked up more than a confused eccentric.

After a moment, the intensity of Loki's expression fell and he chewed thoughtfully for a moment.

"It's where I'm from." He explained, "it's not on Earth, it's another realm."

Dean snapped his fingers suddenly and Loki was taken aback. "I knew it," Dean said, "I knew I recognised your name from somewhere. As in, Loki, God of mischief."

"Wait, you know about that?" Loki asked, brow furrowed in confusion.

Dean looked sheepish for a moment, he considered not telling this guy, this God, that he was a hunter but he supposed Loki was honest so he probably should be too.

"I'm a hunter," he told him, "I know all sorts of lore, including Norse."

Loki looked confused. "What's a hunter?" He asked.

Dean took another bite and chewed thoughtfully. "It's like a person that goes around and sorts out supernatural problems, dealing with ghosts and demons and stuff."

Loki nodded. "I see, that's why you thought I might be demon."

"I knew you were something, the demon's have just been pretty active lately."

"Why?"

Dean opened his mouth to explain about the trials, confused for a moment why he was talking so freely to an Asgardian, before he shut it again.

Loki frowned slightly and Dean gestured redundantly around him. "It's nothing, it's not "need to know" or anything, I just don't really want to talk about it."

Loki looked down at his plate. "Yeah, I understand."

Dean believed that he did.

The pair finished their food, the air filled with pretty normal conversation despite the fact it was an Asgardian God and a Supernatural Hunter chatting over burgers. It sounded like a joke.

"Thank you for the hospitality," Loki said, feeling more revitalised than he had in days.

"No problem," Dean answered, "I never expected to spend the evening with an alien but hey, I've done worse."

Loki smiled slightly. "I'll take that as a compliment."

Dean smiled back, he couldn't help it, Loki was charming.

"Most human's would have left me in the road." Loki pointed out and Dean scoffed.

"Yeah, that's true. But, I'm not a heartless prick yet."

Loki cocked his head to one side, his dark hair falling over one shoulder. "I suppose it takes a lot of practice to make it to my level." He sounded glum all of a sudden.

Dean cleared his throat. "So, are you going back to Asgard?" He asked, he didn't know why he was asking.

Loki sighed suddenly, not at Dean, but at the ground. He brushed his hair off of his shoulder. "I suppose. It's not really my choice." He admitted.

"It's always your choice." Dean told him immediately, Loki looked up at him. What a strange human, he thought to himself. It was interesting finding someone who seemed so hard done by and yet so kind at the same time.

But that was not the only thing Loki liked about Dean, it had been the nicest anyone had treated him in a long time.

"Where were you headed, then?" He asked, "before the parking lot?"

"Oh." Said Loki, somewhat taken aback. He fidgeted for a second. "I wasn't really going anywhere," he said. "Some stuff happened and I didn't really want to be there anymore...I just dropped, really."

Dean was unsure of what to say, instead, he stuck his hand out dumbly. Loki stared at it.

"Err, nice to meet you." He continued, internally cursing himself.

After a moment, Loki extended his own hand and took Dean's into his own. Loki had surprisingly big hands, with pale, long fingers. Kind of like the rest of him.

His hand was cool to the touch, whereas Dean's was warm.

The pair stood there, transfixed by the feel of each other's skin, for a long moment until Dean finally pulled his hand away. Loki backed up, shaking his head, like he was unsure as to what had just happened to him.

"Um, I should go." He said quietly.

Dean nodded in response, trying to force a smile. "Yeah, stay safe, though." He added.

Loki glanced at him one last time before walking towards the bunker door and disappearing through the other side.

What the hell just happened? Loki looked down at his hand as he stepped into the cool, Midgardian air. He missed the warmth he had felt, so different to his own usual cool skin.

Because of this, the chill in the air didn't bother him. He looked around himself, wondering exactly where he would go.

Then, as if on cue, Loki heard the tell tale sounds of Thor's thunder crackling across the darkened sky.

He sighed to himself, he guessed he was going 'home'.

…

Dean didn't like being confused, he really didn't like it. And just then, friggin' holding Loki's hand; confused was the only word he could use.

It certainly hadn't been the weirdest way he'd spent an evening, but it wasn't the most normal. It had been the most pleasant, however. He hadn't felt that at ease with someone, with Sam, for a long time.

At that moment, it occurred to Dean that he would probably never see Loki again. He had no idea where he was going, what did he say about dropping...?

Immediately, Loki's words and the way he had fidgeted when he said them all clicked into place.

He'd meant to drop. He'd meant to die.

Dean bolted across the conference room and flung the door to the bunker open, chasing into the night.

As he emerged outside, he looked around frantically, face illuminated by a single car's headlight. He felt a crushing weight inside himself.

Loki was already gone.

"Dean?" Asked Sam, climbing out of the car, looking as run down as he always did nowadays. "What are you doing out here?"

Dean looked at his little brother, his forehead scrunched up in confusion.

He shook his head. "Nothing."