Vague memories, nothing but memories,
But in the grave all, all, shall be renewed.
(quote & title by W.B. Yeats)
Thor stretches his legs in front of him instead of keeping them propped up on the stair just below the one he is sitting on. He uses his free hand to take a gulp of the wine but his hands shake so much he just puts the goblet down again. In the brief moment your eyes meet, you see how hurt your brother is. How much anger there is hidden beneath the surface.
It's a strange thing you and Thor share. The mutual attraction, but also destruction. Always if Thor isn't pleased with something, he would ran away. And no matter how much he warns you that it isn't a good idea to sit down next to him – lie down next to him – you will always do it. Trying to be there for him, but knowing that he's too far gone in his warrior mind again.
You want to help him. You want to speak. But you never do because you know he'll snap. He'll take it out on you harder than when he's already mid-conversation. The longer you talk to him, the calmer he mostly gets. It's that or he gets that insane look in his eyes that predict nothing good.
However, today, only hurt could be seen in those eyes. Guilt maybe, if you squeezed but mostly hurt. Hurt that hides anger no one but you see.
"Why?" It's like he chokes on the word and you instantly turn your head. "Loki, why him?" He stands up. Seeing him pace around, you stand up as well, hoping he'll stop so you can say something. Do something that might be soothing for him. He has never dealt well with loses, so you know it'll be harder. Even harder now he's lost him. Even you are still in denial about it, wandering around like without a head. Without a brain. Without a single thought that makes sense.
A goblet gets thrown through the room, hitting the wall behind you. It's not one tear escaping from his eyes now, it's more. It's tears. It's all the love he could ever feel for one person pouring out through his tears. You've never seen him like this before. So empty. So angry. So hurt that you fear you might not be capable of anything that is soothing to him. So broken that you fear he might break in two the moment you touch him.
He's so turned into himself, it seems like he's fallen off the earth. You have too. You're two lost souls wandering around in a place you both don't belong. Both in different ways, but also in the same.
Another goblet gets thrown. This time it hits you right in the chest and while you stumble it lands with a loud noise on the floor before your feet. You have no intention of picking it up and he turns around. His eyes are wide in confusion. His fingertips stretch out to the place you are standing, as if something magical is going to happen all of a sudden.
You stretch back, trying to create more wind than possible with such a gesture to make him aware of your presence. He gasps slowly, dropping his hand. The tears stop abruptly from shock and he doesn't dare to come closer, like he's afraid of you.
"Loki? Why?" The only two words he has uttered since he had ran away. "It's not deserved. We don't deserve this. I don't deserve this." It sounds selfish but you know it isn't. He has lost so many warriors in the wars, the battles and through other things that you forgive the selfishness. He didn't deserve to lose yet someone else.
You want to tell him that. Tell him that it isn't his fault. In all honestly: it isn't his fault and you know that all too well. You know that it's yours. You weren't paying attention so you had to pay the price. You all had to pay the price. It was thanks to Thor's warrior-mind that some made it out alive. The wounded too heavily wounded and no one left them behind.
You glance at the body, that radiates a certain peace. The eyelids closed, the black hair laying, even though blooded, in a neat way. It was visible that the person wasn't resting, but if you believed hard enough, you could think it. It's Thor's weak spot – wanting his friends to look decent; even in death. You don't blame him, you would have done the same.
There's a dark red stain in the middle of the chest, making you flinch a little. The skin is turning a slight blue, but not completely from the cold. Some secrets just can't be kept better in the grave.
You walk towards the body, kneeling beside it in one swift move. You don't talk. You don't even breathe. And, above all, you don't touch. You can barely stand looking at it. The pale skin, the slim figure, the robes of a prince.
Thor sits beside you but ignores you completely. He's too far gone in his own world. You are still too much in the wrong one. As he brushes past you, his breath stops and he looks to you but it seems like he's just looking through you. You want to reach out for him but something in you doesn't want it so you don't.
He grabs the body's hand and you can feel someone grabbing yours. Cold, sweaty, slightly bloodstained and even shaking. Thor tries to catch his breath before speaking. His right hand joins his left before he speaks and you put down your own hands into your lap, feeling Thor's hands on yours.
You stop him from speaking because he will say the words that will mean your end. The end of all your hopes. It will end the looking in the mirror every time you look at the peaceful body. It will end your time on a world you don't belong in anymore.
"I'm so sorry, brother, you don't deserve this. I should've looked after you. You weren't destined to die there." His voice cracks and faints away. You look up, knowing good bye is being said.
He leans forward and you don't follow. "I know you're next to me." You don't even have the time to gasp before a kiss is planted on the body's lips and also on yours. Slightly salty but filled with everything Thor never got a chance to say.
"Good bye, Loki Odinson."