[L/N: How's it going guys? It's been a while! So anyway, I wrote this for Cirque (Yes, she's still active! She doesn't write much fics anymore, though) after losing a dare. Reserving that story for another time, so I'll leave you with this.
I don't own any of the characters in this fic. It's already been uploaded on tumblr, if any of you are interested. And, once again, I'm sorry if it seems rushed. Hope you like it. Reviews are always welcome.]
The silence that hung between them was too much for Thor to bear.
Loki lay still beside him, his head on his brother's chest, a hand resting limply against the thunder god's shoulder. Dull green eyes fixated themselves on nothing, and the growing darkness that surrounded them clouded over his face and made him look weary. His breathing was shallow and slow; every breath he exhaled felt like a tremble on Thor's skin. He seemed so lifeless, so weak against his brother's figure.
He looked so fragile.
It pained Thor to see his brother like this. The hollow listlessness of Loki set an unsettling pang in his stomach. What was once a young boy, a man so quiet and gentle in nature, now lay a total wreck by his side. Loki was hardened, his heart had so been corrupted by blind anger and detestation – look at what befell him. No one, not even Thor himself, with arms wound protectively around his battered body, could save him from such emotion.
But Thor understood his brother– he knew Loki well enough to know that he was vulnerable against such things. Thor knew most everything there was about him, especially about the Loki that only revealed himself to few. There were instances when they were still young and full of innocence wherein he would see his brother slip; the cool facade he kept would falter and expose a boy only Thor knew. This boy would huddle in a corner and weep to himself. But Thor, ever happy and loving as he was, would take his hand and have adventures with him, and the boy would laugh alongside him and forget all of his pains as they told stories of giants and kings to each other underneath a starlit night sky. Then they'd go to bed with smiles so wide and a promise that the next day would be a new and exciting one.
After that the boy would build another wall around him and stay that way for a long time. But Thor would always be willing to wait – always for his brother.
Thor glanced down at him now, half-tense and half-tired. The trickster hadn't moved at all since the two retreated to his room. Thor led him there to go through old items and faded memories in hopes of bringing some sense back into him; something he had been attempting to do ever since he crossed paths with Loki back on Midgard. But a doubt deep inside him told him that it probably wouldn't work. He had seen how Loki succumbed to madness right before his eyes, how cold and menacing he had become since the last time he saw him. It was too much for the thunderer – Loki had turned into a complete stranger. Where was the brother that he once knew? What was the price of his faults?
Thor had to admit, he had been angry with him. He had been angry at the fact that he kept days, weeks, months, perhaps even a year to himself believing his brother to be dead. That he had stayed up all those nights with tears flowing from his eyes, making him look like a weak fool in front of others. He had abandoned most of his happiness to mourn while those around him threw grand banquets and embarked on journeys to please themselves. Not even the presence of his friends could take away the smallest pint of pain that rested in his heart. Thor had become exhausted, static. All he wanted was to find a way to bring his brother back, even if it meant throwing himself to the depths of Hel just to do so.
But when he found out that Loki was alive, wrecking havoc on Midgard with the Tesseract in his possession, all of his sorrow had been replaced with momentary bitterness and anger. The god of thunder – here, reduced to a complete mess; and his brother, the god of mischief – there, dangerously revelling in power he could never control. The safety of Midgard became more important to him than anything else. It set a heavy weight in him – it was a burden in his heart and mind and it blinded him with rage. How dare he?, Thor asked himself one day as he stared down from the remains of the Bifrost, fingers clenched around a small dagger that Loki so favoured to use during their many adventures together. How dare he threaten the people I care about with his selfishness? How dare he hide himself from us? To run away from me?
How dare he?
—And for a brief moment, he was once again hanging off the broken bridge, staring at Loki's pleading eyes as the sound of fear thundered in his head. He watched in horror as his brother slowly slipped away from him, plummeting down into a wide, unknown abyss. And as he disappeared into the deep, the world around crumbled—
With a cry, Thor threw the dagger and left.
The anger didn't last too long, however. All it took was seeing his brother again and the ache had returned and settled deep in his stomach. It was clear that Loki was broken – from the darkness that gathered underneath his eyes to the manic smirk that twisted his lips. His mind spiralled into insanity and grew hungry for more. And when Thor had seen Loki held captive on that jet, all he wanted to do was take him in his arms and never let go, to tell him that he was there and everything was alright. He had so many questions to ask – too many how's and why's – and so many things he wanted to say.Mother's missed you so much, did you know that? So has father, and many other people. Sif, Hogun, Fandrall, even Volstagg. The whole of Asgard's been mourning with us, brother, so please … please just listen to me and come home to us.
Thor had reserved this dialogue for a different day – perhaps the day Loki would allow himself to listen, even if just for a short while. But he knew that it was too late for those words to be spoken. All of Asgard's people knew what crimes Loki had committed and they were all waiting for his punishment. Already they were labeling the fallen prince with words so harsh:
Madman,
Liar,
Traitor,
Evil.
Everything was falling apart.
Sighing, Thor closed his eyes and pressed his lips against Loki's forehead. He just wanted this all to stop – why couldn't things be the same anymore? Why couldn't they have their peace? Changes were inevitable, he knew. But he never really expected this to go so far. And if only he could, he would sacrifice everything just to bring those days of wonder and laughter back.
If only . . .
Suddenly Thor sensed Loki shift in his place. He seemed closer to Thor now more than ever, a hand moving up to rest by his brother's neck, finding comfort in his protective embrace. He remained that way for a long time, and after what felt like an eternity he opened his mouth and spoke.
"What will become of me, brother?"
Loki's voice was weak, barely above a whisper in the thunderer's ears. Thor wasn't used to hearing him talk this way. His voice used to be so full of life; now it was tired and hollow.
Also he found himself unable to answer his brother's question, let alone try thinking of it. Whatever fate Loki had waiting for him wasn't a good one. The Allfather was already preparing himself to deliver his final judgement in the morn, and the image of Loki bound and kneeling for all of Asgard to see burned into Thor's mind and made him feel afraid. What would he have done, then? Would he have kept a straight face or would he have run away in fear? Far too much wrong had happened to Loki in just the span of a few days, and this could be even worse. He refused to think about it.
Thor wrapped his arms tighter around his brother's body, wanting to preserve whatever little was left of the Loki he used to know (if there was anything left, even) in fear of letting him slip away. He looked down and saw his eyes; they were full of hopelessness.
So the silence continued on.
Moments later Loki reached up and kissed Thor.
The action was sudden and strong. As Loki's dry lips pressed against Thor's, everything felt warm again. It recalled the high Asgardian sun in the noontime, or of a fire in the chill of the night. They both remembered how they spent their childhood basking in that warmth, resting and laughing side by side in the fields, not giving a care for anything else in the world. They remembered how they would ride across plains and forests as they grew up, and while catching their breath they would lay together in silence and watch as the stars came out from the sky above. They remembered the night they swore to secrecy and how they awoke the next day, tangled and content in each other's arms. It had felt just like before.
How they wished it could remain that way.
Loki's hands found their way to his brother's neck. Thor felt the caress of the trickster's slim fingers on his skin, taking it in just as eagerly as he took the kiss. He didn't mind at all when he felt the cold hands tighten around it. He just pulled Loki in closer as he felt Loki's nails dig into his flesh.
