Trust My Rage
Chapter One: Who Am I?
"We have to dare to be ourselves, however frightening or strange that self may prove to be."
-May Sarton
"Look at this, look around you!" Thor's demand was difficult to ignore. The screams echoed even this high in the skyscrapers of the city the Midgardian's called New York; a dissonance of order.
"...nt...m..."
He felt the sudden horror of his actions more keenly than he would have considered possible in that moment he paused to actually take in what he'd unleashed. The slightest negative shake of his head tried to impart the hopelessness he felt staring out at the burning city, overrun with the monsters he'd opened the gate for. This wasn't war, there was nothing glorious in the wholesale slaughter happening around him. This wasn't mischief, it was malevolence.
"...is...isn..."
He could feel the moisture growing in his eyes as he realized how unlikely he was to actually win this battle. The fear of what would come down on his head if he failed. His glances at the screaming city did little to comfort him, hell opened over it's high rises with demons pouring out, ready to suck them into it's gaping maw without a second thought. He couldn't continue to look at it, instead his eyes returned to his angry brother.
"h...his i..."
"Do you think this madness will end in your rule?" Thor's words cut, horrifyingly deeper the more he uttered. He was right of course, damnably, frustratingly, maddeningly clear in that observation. The golden Odinson who had mystically turned into a grand hero after his visit to earth. Who had overcome not only Odin's test, but Loki's plans to take the crown. Thor who was once such an oaf and simpleton... now stared at him with such a pained expression it made the god of mischief second guess himself.
"...t me..."
"It's too late." He managed, a desperate attempt to convince himself he could escape this successfully. Even that, left the truth in Thor's words sour in his own mouth – as if he'd eaten something rotten. He would be no King of this world. Should he even come out victorious any real control would remain in the crimson hands of his armies benefactor. The unwanted clarity by which he could recall the pain those fists could inflict was uncanny. The time he'd spent after falling into the void hadn't been some vacation.
"This..."
"It's too late to stop it." He repeated looking away from his brother and back at the carnage happening below them. Perhaps if he vomited up the words a second time he might be able to fool himself into believing he had a chance at victory – hollow as it now seemed to be. What other choice did he have?
"No..." The hope that entered into Thor's voice was altruistic poison. Still, it felt like some light at the end of a tunnel, a possible door out of this growing mess. "We can, together."
"...isn't..."
He recalled another scene between him and his overly philanthropic kin not long ago that made the disorientation he felt presently more explainable.
In all his usual bluster Thor had arrived, mid-flight no less – which was perhaps the most nerve wracking detail given the lightning flying freely around the open metal container where they sat. Loki hadn't been prepared to see him again after the last time he'd watched his face in Asgard. It had seemed only natural to let his grasp on the staff hanging over the void loosen. He was left with nothing, while the brute had miraculously grown the ability to be worthy of the throne because of his dalliances with a mortal.
Thor had believed Loki was going to be lost to him forever, and admittedly Loki wasn't certain he'd survive the void but it had been a more welcoming home than the judgments that awaited him at Odin's court. He, the worthless monster...the never king...
When Loki first saw Thor land on the open hatch of the helicopter there was no chance he could have kept the slight fear that gripped him. His brother owed him nothing, the man that seemed the only one other than mother to actually love him – who he envied, hated, and adored all at the same time. Who had every reason to disown him as swiftly as Odin would. It was no surprise his silver tongue failed him as he was pulled from his restraining belts and drug from the back of the vehicle.
Even as he was falling, on some level, he knew he deserved this...after what he'd done, yet his pride could hardly admit to such a fault. Instead as he lay there, taking a moment to recover from the impact of his sibling's greeting before a smile came to his face and a cool chuckle escaped his lips.
"Where is the Tesseract?" Thor spoke first, it was just as well, Loki wasn't the one that would have filled that silence.
"I missed you too," He laughed with the sarcastic, condescending glint that shaded his words. Thor lacked any ability to tell when Loki spoke with legitimacy, but even he was surprised to find he found the snark to ring with it.
"Do I look to be in a gaming mood?" The usual lack of perception touched Thor yet again, and what part could Loki play than the one that had been laid out to him? His ego came to the surface, he had a greater chance of lifting Mjonir than admit the vague delight intermingled with the trepidation of seeing the hero's face again.
"This isn't me." The whisper was lost in the silcence of the shadow.
"You should thank me." Loki said instead, grunting slightly from the unpleasant aches running through his bones – their time apart had left Thor no less of a barbarian. Yet, retaining all the strength such a nickname would imply. "With the bi-frost gone how much dark energy did the all-father have to muster to conjure you here?"
Loki started to push himself to his feet, pausing only to add. "Your precious earth."
Mjonir hit the dirt and Thor drug Loki up the rest of the way from where he'd been leisurely pulling himself from the ground, grabing the right side of his neck and face. He was held up where he had no choice but to match gazes with the god of thunder.
"I thought you dead!" Thor's voice almost broke. He was the large innocent fox – looking to reunite with a hound that had learned to hunt. The sadness was obvious, the frustration, Loki had so much he could say in those few seconds after the exclamation – so much he wished to say.
"This isn't me." The whisper had a bit more strength, but remained unnoticed all the same.
"Did you mourn?" He asked instead. He was growing accustomed to those bright blue eyes again – to the puppy dog expression Thor used to get his way when they were children. How many treats or toys had Loki passed along because of his brother's mild discontent. He'd been no better in the rest than raising the oaf he'd become before his exile.
"We all did. Our father..." Thor began.
A single slender finger rose to pause the slightly taller Asgardian, hate dripping back into Loki's voice, taking over the protective sarcasm of a moment ago. "Your father." The answer wasn't one that pleased him but Loki didn't care. The annoyance at mention of Odin only further deepended the darkness curled around his heart, smothering any prospects of a warm reception.
Loki knocked away the arm that held him, shoving Thor away as he didn't even want the bleeding heart touching me. Yet, he couldn't retain Thor's gaze through the whole of the next statement, starting to pace away from him. "He did tell you about my true parentage did he not?"
"We were raised together! We played together! We fought together! Do you remember none of that?" Thor was stepping after him, Loki could hear him. The eldest brother had never been one for stealth. Loki could picture the way Thor must be putting his arms out to either side in exasperation of what he was hearing.
"This isn't me." A voice, a glimmer of recognition – a single star in the cosmos.
The gloom had already taken root.
"I remember a shadow." Loki retorted, it wasn't a lie either – that was the part that made it all too easy to slide under the influence of the obscure whispers that haunted his mind. "Living in the shade of your greatness. I remember you tossing me into a abyss..."
The best lies...
"I who was and should be king."
...have a touch of the truth.
"So you take the world I love for as recompense for your imagined slights?" Thor's voice was colored with emotion now, rich with it in a way that it never would have been in the days leading up to his ill-fated coronation. Thor had done more growing up in his scant little time on earth than Loki could truly comprehend. He took a small step back at the accusation – managing not to give into the desire to toss out another remark, keeping that urge in check until Thor continued. "No, the earth is under my protection Loki."
The spiteful cackle bubbled up from the dusk within the god of mischief and he couldn't stop it – so many years of trying to be good enough, of false promises, it was easier to let the hatred sweep him into it's familiar grasp. The mockery laced his next statement like an oil spill in the sea. "...and you're doing a marvelous job with that. The humans slaughter each other in droves while you idle threat. I mean to rule them! Yes, why shall I not?"
"You think yourself above them." Thor remarked.
"Well, yes." Loki replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
"Then you miss the truth of ruling brother, the throne would suit you ill." It was uttered as Thor moved closer, softly, as if saying it apologetically would make it less a disrespect. Loki hit him on the chest, Thor remaining unmoving as ever as Loki grit his teeth to stalk past him yet again.
Even his brother, for all his claims of companionship, of memory, of shared history - thought him incapable, unworthy of the throne he'd been promised as a child.
The twilight bloomed...
"I've seen worlds you've never known about." Any cheer had evaporated from his voice as Loki twirled back on Thor after several measured steps. "I have grown, Odinson," He spit the surname as a curse more vile than any he'd heard before. "...in my exile. I have seen the true power of the Tesseract and when I wield it..."
"Who showed you this power?" The indignity continued with Thor's interruption, stalking up to him in disdain. "Who controls the would be king?"
"I am a king!"Outrage at the taunts came out, the impertinence of those words were too much.
"Not here!" It was Thor's turn to reach indignation. "You give up the Tesseract! You give up this poisonous dream! You come home..."
A ray of light...
"This isn't me!" A weak call, lost in the suffocating black. "Who am I?"
The unsaid things were the most difficult – but what did he have on Asgard? It was no home for him. The night quickly ate away the momentary star.
"I don't have it." Loki replied, the statement seemed to cover his lack of a true home as much as the infinity stone.
Thor had lost his patience, Mjonir was called to his hand and Thor was resisting the great urge to simply beat Loki into submission – that much was clear. The actuality beneath his promises of forgiveness and warmth were misery, the moisture in his eyes. A pasture painted over a desert.
"You need the cube to bring me home...but I've sent it off I know not where." Loki's own momentarily lapse of decorum passed – he was calm, shrugging slightly as if it were quite the puzzle to be solved. The memory passed into the present...
"Who am I?" The question replayed...the voice finally having gained enough strength to be picked out in the black.
There he was, the oaf he'd grown to despise, the brother he'd grown up with...standing in front of him against all logic desiring Loki to accept his offer. To take up arms so they could fight beside each other again. There was a childish innocence in his blue eyes, a hope that offered the smallest light.
"Sentiment." He let the thought pass without action, though his fingers trailed the small throwing knife stashed into his breast pocket as an option he hadn't yet discounted.
It wasn't as simple as when they were children sparing in the yard. When a bedtime story distracted them from pointless little affronts of breaking each others toys. The world was burning down around him, shots firing and screams echoing in memory with his own.
At the moment he considered battling the darkness that had fixed itself in his heart the doubts began to flood – the fears of the pain he would endure for having failed Thanos. "Who control's the would be king." Yet, the thought of his once tormentor only strengthened his resolve.
"I am Loki, of Asgard!"
The irony that it was the memory of his brother's words that allowed him to break free wasn't lost on him. With the larger picture laid in front of him it was simple enough to shatter the tethers of black magic that had been shackling his mind.
End Chapter
So, I had a random idea...and just really wanted/needed to put it down on 'paper' – so to speak. I like it anyway, not sure if I'll do anything else with it or leave it as a one shot really. Apparently it's more confusing than anything according to my hubby so at least right now unless it gets some absurd amount of love it'll probably just be a one-shot.
-Aura
