So, my second foray into comic fic! I honestly thought "Journey Into Mystery" would be my first, but this fic turned out surprisingly hard to wrestle into line. I'm used to writing MCU!Thor, but Comics!Thor is a very different animal in a lot of ways. I hope I was at least able to convey that.
Beyond that, this fic was mostly inspired by the fact that Kid Loki genuinely goes through a lot of his life enduring against genuine and unashamed physical abuse and my reaction of "oh god ow". And Thor's reacting to Loki's plan during the "Galactus Seed" by trying to strangle him and my reaction of "oh god OW". IDK, I just thought that the day-to-day horrors of Loki's life were horrific enough to deserve attention on their own even when the fate of the world wasn't at stake. Thus, I gave it my attention. Not that the comics didn't - this was just an aspect of the story that always particularly drew my attention.
I hope you enjoy the results, and I hope I have portrayed my subject matter respectfully.
Thor was…not good at being gentle.
It was a character trait that was normally all but useless to him. He lived a life of boiling blood and battle, of hard fights and harder feasts, with three friends who were all quite boisterous in their own way and a lover who could and often did leave him with bruises when she came to warm his bed. Even when he found himself forced to get political, which was happening with fairly distressing frequency in Odin's old age, Thor found it easier to approach such matters by force of will rather than wit or cunning. Twisting words into knots had always been Loki's domain, and was even now. Thor tended to throw himself into any situation with both feet. If subtlety was required, that was the rest of the world's problem.
Thor was not, on the whole, terribly good with children. It had been so long since he'd been one. Odin might sometimes accuse him of childishness, but they both knew that that wasn't the same thing. How Volstagg could put up with his great, noisy, ever-swelling brood was something that left Thor with mingled admiration and utter puzzlement. The fact that Volstagg sometimes lamented not being able to be home with them more often was even stranger.
Perhaps it was merely because there was a part of him that balked at the idea of looking after people who could not, at least to some degree, look after themselves. The degree of responsibility Volstagg bore in caring for so many children was honestly a little frightening.
And then, somehow, Thor had found himself in the care of his own child. In this case, it just happened to be his brother.
It was easy to forget that Loki was basically helpless, now. After centuries of training himself to expect all manner of attacks from all directions, the idea of a Loki without his magic was almost impossible to contemplate. It still took him aback, sometimes, to realize just how small his brother was. Of course, he was no smaller than he had always been at that age, but back then, the last time, Thor had been a child with him. That had been a long time ago, except to Loki it had only been a scant few months. Now his little brother barely came up to his chest, and what would one day grow into whipcord muscles and lean, predatory strength was merely a height he hadn't quite grown into yet, limbs that were a little too long, bones like a bird's, and a softness to his form not yet burned away by life's hardships and trials.
Such a child should pass his days at play, with siblings or friends. But Loki had no friends, and a brother who was far too busy defending others.
For a child, however, he was all but surrounded by would-be foes.
Thor knew that to trust Loki utterly, even now, was a fool's endeavor. He knew that the best that could be said about Loki now was that he meant well. That he wanted to be good. That he was downright afraid of the stories of who he had once been, of who he might one day become. That, however, was enough for Thor. His efforts might be clumsy, and occasionally resort to as much trickery and deception as any of the old Loki's evil schemes, but even if it sometimes drove him mad to find himself yet again on the wrong side of his brother's tricks, he couldn't believe that they were meant for an evil purpose.
It wasn't enough for so many other Asgardians. So many brave, fierce warriors who had so far sought to prove their mettle and devotion to their home by beating a small boy.
Thor could not always stay with Loki, and Loki could not always stay with him. When the rage against him and his past crimes soured and festered enough that it came to blows, they were often quick affairs. And so sometimes – far too often for Thor's liking, in fact – all he ever knew about these attacks was that his brother was a little more skittish for a while. Some might not see even that, because Loki seemed to have decided to focus so much of his vast powers of deception on smiling.
He was still only a child, however. No child had utterly perfect control over themselves, or the involuntary physical reactions that could betray even the most cleverly worded lie. The way Loki would carefully judge the reach of whoever he was speaking to and place himself just that extra step outside it, or flinch whenever anyone moved too close or reached out for him.
Even Thor was no exception, a fact which left him tremendously shamed whenever he remembered why. It had been in the heat of anger, of outright rage at being caught up in yet another one of Loki's tricks, but in anger, he had still lashed out and hurt the boy he had sworn to care for, and left Loki fully aware that he was capable of doing so.
A mere apology could not make up for that, as Thor knew personally from all the many times Loki had endangered his life in turn. And if Thor still sometimes had nightmares about the sight of Loki's legs kicking wildly, desperately in midair, and his grip on Thor's hands so feeble that he could barely feel it at all, well…that would be his reminder to never let himself fall to that level ever again.
There were other, more meaningful ways to show Loki that he was safe in Thor's presence. They came on those damnably rare days when Thor could actually be there to help.
Sometimes, merely being there was enough. Sometimes, when he came across someone harassing or threatening his brother, all he needed to do was clear his throat, or ask what was going on as though he didn't damn well know. That was usually enough to send the offender fleeing like a rat from a dog. Thor, however, found that he almost preferred when his brother's tormentor decided to get belligerent. That gave him all the excuse he needed to return the favor in spades.
He and Loki almost never said much about those times – in part because, well, what was there to say?
Sometimes, however…well, even Loki's facades could not stay up forever.
No matter how hard he fought to keep up his sunny smile and bright optimism…everyone had their bad days.
"He's right, you know," said Loki quietly, watching the warrior slink off in defeat, his fun spoiled.
"He isn't," said Thor flatly, only just restraining himself from following after the bastard and showing him the error of his ways in a more permanent fashion.
"Come now, brother." Loki looked up at him with a smile that was far too old for such a young child. It was an old, tired, bitter, and above all sad expression, one that reminded Thor far too much of the Loki-who-had-been in those moments where he'd almost found his way back to the edge of madness. "You should know better than to try and lie to me, of all people. It's all right, you can say it. You're among family, after all, much as all the realms in space might wish otherwise."
Thor shook his head firmly. He could feel a twist of something like dread in the pit of his stomach, above and beyond and worse than what he normally felt when finding the boy in trouble. He reached out, carefully, ignoring the way Loki flinched for the sake of lightly ruffling his hair. He was glad he had, because the gesture of affection made Loki smile, his face scrunching up in pleasure rather than distress, and for a moment he was looking at an innocent child again rather than a boy expected to carry the weight of the world in past sins. Only for a moment, but it was a moment that gave Thor hope.
"All the realms in space be damned," he continued on, kneeling down to better look the boy in the eye. "What I wish – what I have always wished – is to have you by my side once more, Loki. For a second chance to be a better sibling to you than I was before. I have all of that and more." Thor smiled, and it was in moments like these that he remembered anew just why he had done this, why he had brought him back like this. Thor could not remember the last time smiling came so easily to him. "I could not possibly be happier."
"And that's why you should kill me."
Thor felt as though he had suddenly taken one of his own lightning bolts, straight to the heart. The shock was all the worse because Loki hadn't stopped smiling. His expression hadn't so much as twitched. He knew that he should do something, say something, to drive such mad thoughts from the boy's head, to make it so he never saw the need to even contemplate such a thing ever again. He should do something to soothe the child, and yet Thor found himself so numb with horror that all he could do was ask, "What are you saying, Loki?"
"What you said yourself, Thor. That life, both our lives, will only worsen from here. I will inevitably turn to wickedness and wrongdoing once more, and you will inevitably have to stop me. The cycle will begin anew…unless you end it here, as you have broken so many of Asgard's other chains."
Thor hadn't even realized Loki had reached out to take one of Thor's hands in both of his until he felt his hand being tugged forward, moved and manipulated with small, slender fingers, to rest against the boy's throat. His attitude, as he tried to wrap Thor's fingers around his own neck, was almost fussy, in that way he'd always had when Thor did something wrong or fumbled at a task and Loki would huff and roll his eyes and insist on here, idiot, let me show you, do it like this except in this case what Loki was trying to show Thor how to do was wrap a hand around his brother's throat and it was only then that full realization kicked in through the shock and Thor yanked his hand away as though he'd been burned, cradling it against his chest as though he was the one who needed protecting.
Again, the memory returned to him, hazy from the cloud of rage that had descended over his mind at the time and all the worse for it. "I will break your trickster's neck, dammit!" shouted over the sound of the boy choking and Sif shouting for him to stop…
"Finish what you started, Thor," said Loki, drawing Thor out of the horrible memory and back to the horrible present. He sounded as though he was trying to make it an order. His voice broke, however, betraying him. A crack appeared in his mask, his carefully crafted mask of maturity and strength to hide the lost child beneath. "Do it. End it. End me. Do it!"
"No, Loki." Thor shook his head, reached out with shaking hands, and enfolded Loki in a tight embrace as though trying to shield his brother from all the world's cruelties with his body alone. The boy trembled like a frightened rabbit in his arms for a moment, before something inside him broke entirely and he gave in, wrapping his arms around Thor in turn. He was so small now, and Thor so much older, that he could barely reach all the way around. "No," Thor repeated like a prayer, shaking his head again before pressing his face against the his brother's shoulder, just for the mad need to reassure himself of the racing of Loki's heart through the beat of his pulse. "I will not. Never again. Do not ask that of me, brother, because I cannot."
"It would be easy," Loki insisted, around a voice choked with sobs. "I'm sure I would die very quickly, you would hardly even notice. And I would not blame you, not when I asked you to. I would even thank you for it, brother. And I would rather it be you than anyone else; I know you would make it quick, I know you are the only one who does not wish for me to suffer, please, Thor, please." He sobbed, the sound broken and painful, and his grip tightened as much as his small, slight form would allow. Thor felt Loki's tears soaking through the thick fabric of his cape. "I have tried to take my own life, but I can't, I'm too afraid. I am too much of a coward to take my own life and too much of a coward to go on, but you are so terribly brave, Thor, I know you could do this for me…"
"You are wrong, Loki," Thor insisted firmly, and didn't even try to swallow back the tightness in his throat or the stinging his eyes. In the privacy of his own mind, he cursed himself for ever letting it come to this, for failing once again in all new ways to be there for Loki as a brother should. No more, he told himself fiercely. Not again. "I have always been too much of a coward to imagine life without you, so that I sought you out even after death. But to carry on as you have beneath the burdens of your old self and so much undeserved scorn, Loki, I can think of nothing braver or stronger."
He pulled away just enough to press a kiss to Loki's forehead, taking comfort in what actions he could offer to soothe him when words had never been his strength, when everything he was saying no matter how heartfelt seemed so insufficient in the face of the boy's pain. "I know the world has been unkind to you, Loki. More than you deserve. But I swear to you, brother, it will not always be so, and I beg you not to let ignorance and baseless cruelty keep you from a better life."
Loki stared at him, something desperate and strangely hungry in his teary eyes. Thor was once again struck forcibly with the reality of how fragile he was now, and how terribly unused he himself was to handling people who were fragile.
Thor was not good at being gentle. It was a character trait that was normally all but useless to him.
There were, however, some people who were just worth the effort.
"Do you promise?" Loki asked quietly. Thor knew that, whatever he said, this child would believe because out of centuries of struggle and bloodshed had come a brother who loved and admired and looked up to him. In Loki's eyes, he could do no wrong. Anything that went wrong, anything that hurt, would always be Loki's fault before it would be Thor's.
It was a position of terrifying responsibility to hold, one that Thor was still determined to prove worthy of. This Loki reborn had a long, hard road to walk, but Thor was determined that this time he would not walk it alone. He had faith that with just a little guidance, his brother would find a better path this time. They would find it, together.
"I promise," he said solemnly. "On my life, brother, I swear it to you." And this time, when he reached out to rest his hands on Loki's shoulders, heavy and warm and careful, the boy didn't flinch. Instead, he moved willingly to wrap his arms around Thor once more, an embrace Thor was happy to return.
When he asked very quietly if they might go flying before returning to Asgardia proper, Thor was happy to agree. His brother's weight was so slight against his back and shoulders that Thor barely felt him, but he held on tightly and his whoop of delight as Thor took off from the earth was the most gratifying sound in the world.
Though they both might stumble, what mattered was to keep moving forward. That he give Loki at least one place where he could believe that he was safe. It was the very least he deserved.
What mattered was that he be here whenever he could. So that if he could not always to stop the trauma, then he could at least pick up the pieces as gently as he was capable of.
Of course, we all know Thor wasn't around for a good chunk of "Journey Into Mystery". But the poor guy was dead, and so I think he can be forgiven.