Thanks for giving this story a chance :)
But, of course, I just realised that I already need to make an amendment to Chapter 1... The change is brief, but just makes these other chapters a bit clearer - just something Natasha says right after the line 'Thor glowered. "If we need to."'
Anyway, here we go.
After wandering his way into what looked like the city square, it seemedjust like the Midgard he was used to, though decidedly more wintry. If someone were to take his brain and slice out the memory of having charged through an inter-dimensional portal a minute ago, Thor would be fooled into believing he was in his original universe. The cacophony of the humans' vehicles blurring into a background hum was the same. This New York's air was the same faintly smoggy city air from years ago as he remembered, although with a fresh cold bite and the light flurry of white of a snowfall that was just concluding. The same sky lit by a weak sun and punctured by skyscrapers like children thinking they could touch the ceiling or wave to gods they believed in.
He noticed the nearest street sign, white letters painted on dark green: Calling Avenue.
Then he heard the truck horn blare before it –
Screeeeeeeeuuuuurgh!
"Move!"
The truck was half braking, half swerving. Thor was already leaping backward off the icy tar and back onto the snow-layered pavement before he felt the urgent hand seizing his arm through his coat sleeve. In his reverie he had not noticed his first footstep off the sidewalk and onto the potholed road. But Thor had centuries of experience hunting wild beasts, crushing marauders from each the Nine Realms, and, more recently, fighting armies of aliens – dodging the passing truck was easy.
For an instant, Thor tensed; he could be recognised by humans of this dimension. But he remembered a second later he need not worry about hiding in a place he had never existed. The fleece lining of his coat collar tickled his cheek. Tony's winter clothing would keep him sufficiently unnoticeable.
Thor tried not to dwell upon who used to provide these little details of his Midgardian facades in the past.
"Look before you cross, you idiot!" A woman with a sleek ponytail and navy suit under her furred coat snapped at him as she trudged a fresh path through the already trampled carpet of white.
Gradually the people around Thor pacified and continued with their own snow-stifled business. A voice on his other side spoke.
"Are you okay?"
Thor glanced toward it. He nearly did a double take.
The very image of his brother was eyeing him carefully, a hand partway held out like he was hesitating to pat Thor's shoulder.
Like on their old journeys to Midgard, under a dark olive winter coat, Loki was garbed in a passably normal human suit – dark charcoal grey with a yellow-and-red striped scarf looped around his neck – and the subtle bearing of having been there a million times before that Thor had taken a few decades longer to master in their youth. It was the same face, and the same eyes – although mercifully awake, and clear, and alive – but Thor felt like the breath had been walloped out of him because it was his little brother staring at him with polite concern and absolutely no recognition whatsoever.
This was not a resurrection,Thor reminded himself. This was not his real Loki. Just 'a' Loki. One of the apparently very few leftover in existence alive and well, and good.
(His real Loki was who knows where)
"Yes, thank you," Thor heard himself say, and felt himself nod politely with some appropriate sheepishness. "I'm sorry, I was lost in my own thoughts and didn't look where I was going."
This was not his real Loki.
There was no need for this sense of homesickness that was forming a lump in his throat, as this Loki stood there, snowflakes settling in his black hair, and still with his hand held out to him uncertainly.
"Thank you for pulling me off the road." How nearly funny it was that his brother in this universe was trying to save his life in such a mundane and obvious manner.
This Loki dropped his hand and replied, "How unfortunate to be run over right before Christmas. All the exaggerated preceding fuss and none of the fun of the day itself."
Thor blinked. The fact that Loki – at least a version of – was standing there before him and speaking as casually as though a friendly neighbour was immobilising Thor's brain. "Christmas?" he said without thinking.
"Yes. The holiday in two days that's responsible for all the rushing, singing, decorations everywhere…?" Loki raised his eyebrow – he suddenly looked the closest yet to what Thor's brother had. "Bless the lucky souls in your life with you not overdoing this holiday."
Thor fished another abashed grimace from somewhere. "Oh, right, yes. Sorry." He had seen Christmas before.
He could not stop drinking in the sight of his alive brother's face.
"Are you sure you're okay?" This Loki prodded doubtfully.
It's not him.
This was just Time and Space at work. The venomous green and blue of two of the three Stones they had managed to recover from Thanos and his Children were burned into his brain.
It's not him.
Thor shook himself again.
When in recent years had Loki ever asked you that?
Thor nodded again. "I'm fine. Sorry, still slightly… distracted." He scouted his slightly stunned brain for what to say next, for how to engage this Loki according to plan. He was meant to convince Loki of something, to help somehow –
"Being nearly hit by traffic might do that to you, I suppose."
But his brother's voice was filling the space between them once more. Thor was suddenly in a universe where he did not have to scout his memory in order to remember Loki.
It's not him.
"I suppose so."
The sight and sound of the man before him was bringing Thor's grief to surface, rather than burying it deeper.
(No resurrections this time)
After a pause, Thor collected himself. Why was he even playing along with this Loki's apparent charade of humanity? He should have taken a private moment to reorient himself after crossing the portal. Apparently this Loki had never had a brother, and, it seemed, was pretending for whatever reason to be a human on Earth.
But then, this Loki should still have the same knowledge and experiences with magic, Thanos, and the Stones as Thor's true brother had, albeit with potentially some variation if their dimensions had not followed an exactly similar timeline. So Thor needed to tap into this, convince this Loki that he knew who he was and to return to Thor's own dimension, potentially permanently, to help overthrow the Mad Titan. In three days.
How hard could that be? Thor thought grimly. When he had pushed so hard for the Avengers to take this direction, he probably should have realised – or rather, remembered – how difficult anything was with his brother involved. What would make it easier would be if this Loki were unhappy there, so that he might be more amiable to accompanying Thor back. There was a twist of guilt in Thor's gut as he hoped that.
Then again, this Loki had no Thor. Maybe he had fewer reasons for unhappiness. There was no shade of greatness overshadowing him here.
The man in front of Thor regarded him, searchingly. In Thor's old moments of doubt, or arrogance, or argument, Odin had always the ability to look at him as if looking through him. In those moments of Thor's, Loki had always seemed to see inside him.
Still sounding concerned, this Loki asked, "Do you have somewhere to be now?"
Thor began his pitch. "Listen…"
In their school years, he had rarely enjoyed showing their professors or tutors his academic work – he had shoved the scrawled articles under their noses and just looked away, awaiting their verdict. Rare occasions in which he had been devoid of confidence as to whether he should expect praise or disappointment. His brother – the image of his brother – puckered his forehead, but nodded slowly and somewhat cautiously at Thor's abrupt change in tone.
"Loki, I don't know why you're on Earth with this pretense at being human," Thor continued, "but I need your help using some of the Infinity Stones to stop Thanos."
As Thor expected, Loki's brow crinkled slightly. Through the wintry air he pinned Thor with a stare of perfect confusion and suspicion. "Okay. What?"
Thor had rarely had the opportunity to watch the God of Lies perform while knowing full well Loki was lying. He suspected he would have been fooled if he did not already suspect otherwise. Still, he inwardly grumbled; so this was how they would have to play it.
In Loki's eyes and tone, the confusion quickly darkened into more distrust. "And how do you know my name?"
This was definitely at least an echo of his brother – Thor already felt like shaking his shoulders and demand that he hurry up and agree. But instead he said, "This will sound bizarre, but there's a dimension parallel to this one where Thanos has managed to assemble all six Infinity Stones in his Gauntlet, and he snapped his fingers before the other Avengers and I managed to steal back three of the Stones. The others sent me into this dimension to find you to help us – "
"Er – "
" – Because in our universe – "
Thor faltered mid-speech, as though in a foreign language and realising he could not pronounce the next word. "In our universe… you had to leave. You left us."
This Loki just stared at him.
"But you were my friend." Thor finished.
His mouth felt dry, his words only sand on his tongue.
(You're my brother, and my friend – )
Perhaps it was best he hold back some information for now, anyway. He could always reveal more shocking family news later, after gaining more of this pseudo-Loki's trust.
(– sometimes I'm envious, but – )
Thor watched him nod slowly, reminiscent of a patient parent when their child describes their plan for capturing wild Bilgesnipe. He waited for the false denial he would have to parry next.
"I'm sorry, my friend." Loki's tone was aloof with detached politeness. Thor kept from rolling his eyes as the other furtively glanced around them as though hoping a passerby would interject. "I'm sure parallel dimensions and being a part of the Avengers would be thrilling, but you'll have to understand that I'm wondering if you've just found out my name somehow and are playing a joke…" Another strange experience, witnessing Loki react to something so mundanely.
Thor wondered how many layers of dishonesty this Loki would shroud himself with despite Thor's blatant awareness of his true identity. He wondered if this Loki would suffocate beneath them.
He kept his voice low. "Loki – "
His brother twitched at the second mention of his name.
"Loki." Thor said.
(And 'Loki' only,
Not brother)
" – I know you probably have your own reasons for hiding on Midgard, if that's what you're doing, but if you could admit what you know of the Infinity Stones and listen to what my world is going through and why we need your help – "
"Most of the things you just said went over my head." This version of Loki was shaking his head and beginning to turn away. "I'm sorry, I'd best be going now, but please take care where you walk – "
"Why do you hide?" Thor caught Loki's thickly sleeved wrist –
(He was suddenly months younger, on his knees on a burning, crumbling ship, crawling towards his little brother's broken body and clutching his limp hand…)
– and ignored the answering glare of indignation. "Who are you protecting? We could help you in our universe too, if you joined us there the Thanos of this dimension wouldn't find you – " The logic sounded perfectly reasonable to his own ears, but his own Loki had not always been the most reasonable, either.
"Let go, friend." Loki's tone was starting to jeer. At the back of his mind, Thor had to admit it made this Loki look and sound again more like his true brother. It was better than the aloof civility of a stranger.
He still clutched Loki's arm."Perhaps I didn't explain this well – "
"Clearly." More disdain.
(More and more like his own Loki)
" – but we need your help, your magic and knowledge, we knowyou're Asgardian, or half Jotun, and – "
Loki took his arm from Thor's grip and countered with finality, "I'm sorry, whoever you are, but you won't find anyone more human than me."
Thor realised where the sudden sense of familiarity came from; déjà vu, Tony had once termed something like it. He was back on Sakaar, trying to convince Brunnhilde to help them escape to Asgard and fight Hela. But she had joined them eventually because she was tied, blood- and bone-deep, to Asgard. His younger brother had one tie if none other – to his brother – and this Loki had not even that.
Thor would have to figure out something else. "Fine. Stay here. Don't help us."
Loki lifted an eyebrow for the second time, sarcasm carved in every line of his face. "And continue on with my life as I had intended before pulling you off the road…? My loss, I'm sure."
Clearly out of patience, he headed down the snow-laden sidewalk, away from Thor. "I'll let you go find someone else who can be of better use to you and your cause."
Unable to help himself, Thor called out to the retreating back, "Coward." He did not receive even a glance of leftover annoyance over the shoulder.
How am I supposed to find him now?
Thor kicked a stale clump of snow out of his path as he strode on. A young couple walking a wolfish canine of ash-coloured pelt shuffled out of Thor's way warily. He had been wandering the city, head down and accumulating snowflakes in his cropped hair, for the past hour trying to wrap his brain around what was going on and what to do next. As the sun began paving the way for dusk, cheery-looking strings of tiny light bulbs were winking around him, lacing the trees, lampposts and the faces of stores lining the streets. The dancing dots of light illuminated the other peculiar decorations peeping out of windows nearby – circles of holly, and statues of deer, snowmen or a rotund bearded man in a red suit. The layer of light atop the trodden blankets of sleet threw the hundreds of overlapping footprints into sharp relief so Thor was like a giant surrounded by thousands of miniature white mountain ranges. He assumed the visual effect of the Christmas decorations was very pleasing; he scarcely looked up as he walked the streets, his mind not even yet touching plans for his food or lodging for the night.
What was this Loki up to?
Thor had seen his brother's face, actually seen it, after what felt like both so soon and far too long since he was ripped away from Thor. There was something Thor hated about being forced so soon back into his old mindset of suspicion of his brother again, like forcing his feet back into old, cramped shoes.
He supposed there wasenough reason why Loki – this dimension or otherwise – would want to stay out of any more clashes with Thanos. Or with anything, really. Loki was – or had been, until recently – a serial survivor.
Thor faced the sky turning from purple-blue to black like a plum ripening. He tried to discern familiar constellations in the forest of diamond shards behind the winter clouds. There were probably beyond millions of universes out there, and many of them in peril. So why would Loki – this Loki, a Loki, any Loki – risk whatever he had left, for a universe or a brother that he had no loyalty to?
Thor brought his gaze back to Earth.
How was he supposed to persuade Loki to help in the next two days? Even if Loki did believe he came from an alternate universe. Thor was no Silvertongue.
If it came to physically forcingthis Loki into their dimension – the idea of which repelled Thor – the only way Thor could think of to get him to help after that would be to –
But Thor refused.
Natasha said they have a foolproof backup plan if Loki failed to cooperate. But that did not apply to Thor being uncooperative with the idea. The burnished yellow of their third, hard-earned Infinity Gem was also bright in Thor's memory.
They would not use the Mind Stone like Thanos had, and not on an innocent. Thor envisioned a blank-faced, blue-eyed Loki obediently trailing behind Tony around his workroom, weaving between Iron Man suits and carrying boxes of electronic tools. He shunted the image to the back of his mind.
Thor's foot sent another lump of ice skittering away from him, clanging off a glowing lamppost. He ignored the disapproving stares from onlookers. He kept walking without direction. A sensible part of his brain registered the flecks of frost swirling in air were growing faster, wilder, and more numerous, but he ignored it. He rubbed his eyes. What if –
Beeeeeeeeeep!
"Move!"
Thor backpedaled out of way of the speeding yellow car. He thought he heard its driver yell something crude through the car window glass before whooshing down the icy road. His heart was pounding against the layers of cotton and wool of his shirt and coat, though more from the sudden jerk from his reverie than the near collision. He glanced around to quickly thank the well-meaning stranger.
"You're kidding me." The voice was flatter than a frying pan.
Loki's eyes were nearly black in the sundown, narrowed at Thor with annoyance. "There, that's twice now – is that enough 'help' for you?"
It was a second before Thor broke through his surprise. His cheeks split into a beam. "Were you following me?"
"So you're either kidding or a lunatic." Loki muttered. He turned away from Thor the second time that day. "I follow these streets to get to where I need to be. Goodbye, now."
The chilly wind stinging his face and eyeballs, Thor immediately began jogging after him, not caring how it looked, and he called, "Wait."
Apparently Loki sensed that Thor would continue the pursuit if he did not cleanly extricate himself. The image of his brother spun to face him again, a shadow of caution on his face even in the assortment of light from the decorations, the lampposts, the moon.
"Sir, I really can't help you." His tone was as clipped as the old Asgardian palace hedges. "Except to avoid traffic accidents, apparently."
"I merely want to apologise for disconcerting you earlier today."
Thor did not have a plan of approach ready, no Hulk to roar at Loki to stay like Thor had with Brunnhilde on Sakaar, but apologising felt right. Or at least not wrong.
"That's… welcome." Loki's expression, his entire exterior, remained cold as if trying to camouflage with the winter around them. He did not ask for an explanation as Thor expected or hoped. Thor had the sensation of something slipping away. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm sure we both want to get out of the oncoming snowfall…"
"Of course." Thor rummaged his brain for more to say. "Where are you going?"
Loki gave him a look that said he had no intention of answering.
Through the colourful lights and swirls of white, Thor watched him walk away.
Two days left.
The chance to persuade this man to help save their universe was shrinking the smaller his silhouette became with distance. Thor knew he should move, start walking after him again despite how unwelcome he would be, and think of something better to say that could possibly help bring him back.
Loki was now just a slip of shadow ahead of him. Thor could have mistaken him for a stranger.
He slowly let out an irritated breath. He would have to think of other ways to earn this Loki's trust. With two days left, Thor did not particularly like his chances, but he had very little else to do while stuck there.
But, if Thor really thought about it, he knew it was not the end of everything if he could not convince this Loki to return with him. Despite what Thor argued with the Avengers before, despite how useful Loki's knowledge, magic and experiences with the Stones and Mad Titan might be – the Avengers and the Guardians would still find a way to recover those lost in the Snap and defeat Thanos without him.
If Thor really thought about it, he would have to ask himself why it felt like it mattered so much whether or not he were to leave Loki behind with a bitter argument, a benevolent goodbye, or nothing at all.
If Thor really thought about it, it was not a question he needed to think too deeply about to answer.
And then, as though in spite of himself, Thor saw his brother glance over his shoulder.
Loki seemed to hesitate at the sight of Thor still standing there, unmoving, now ankle-deep in the pelting flecks of ice.
The rising snowstorm, or the fact that night had well and truly fallen before he had yet to find himself a bed under a ceiling, did not particularly bother Thor – a hundred trips to Jotunheim and every other branch in Yggdrasil made this seem like a leisurely Asgardian spring day. But if nothing else could be achieved tonight, he knew he should probably find housing, for appearances' sake if nothing else.
Loki was still hesitating ahead of him.
To Thor's near disbelief, the image of his brother appeared to shake his head and retrace his path back towards him, Loki's scarf, coat tails and hair tugged and flung wildly in the wind as if by a great icy hand.
(Fleetingly, Thor could see his brother in black armour, his face young and afraid, on their doomed journey to Jotunheim before it had sparked a war and eventually led Thor here)
This Loki stood before him, squinting against the harsh wind and snow. Despite the pressing weather, neither of them spoke for a few seconds – Thor, out of curiosity and slight wariness – though the painfully familiar quirked-eyebrow expression on Loki's face communicated volumes.
"Sir, I usually hate asking obvious questions, but why are you just standing in an oncoming blizzard?"
Thor could not help himself. "You're also standing in an oncoming blizzard," he pointed out.
"I'm standing in an oncoming blizzard because I've seen an idiot standing in an oncoming blizzard and I'm obligated to ask the idiot why he's standing in an oncoming blizzard."
Thor almost smiled, before he almost ached. This was too much like talking to his brother.
If they successfully executed their mad plan against Thanos and this man before him returned to this dimension afterwards, would it be like losing Loki again?
(Or if Thor's head gradually failed to separate this person from his true dead brother – would it be worse if this Loki stayed?)
"I was just making plans for where I should stay for the night." Thor invented. "If it's not obvious already, I'm new to this city."
"Let me guess, your previous location didn't have motor vehicle traffic?"
Thor pictured himself scoffing in response, reaching up to shove his brother's head good-naturedly.
He smiled politely. Folded his arms. Ached.
"You hadn't made plans before you arrived?" This version of his brother asked when Thor said nothing.
"This journey was sort of… spontaneous."
"No family or friends in the city that you could call upon?"
Thor smiled at the bleak truth of the statement. He found nothing less funny. "None."
"How about this," Loki offered guardedly after a thoughtful moment, "I'll help you book a room with a reliable hostel or hotel nearby, and then be on my way."
"That's probably as much as I can expect." This was probably as far as Thor could push his luck for one day. He would use the remaining two days more wisely. He hoped. "Thank you."
"…You're welcome." Loki nodded at one of the restaurants nearby with chattering customers, glittering wineglasses, and pearl white tablecloths visible through its glass walls. As they approached its swinging doors, the warmth, light, and aromas of frying meats and doughs radiated like a hearth. "I'm sure this place will let you use their phone."
"Table for two, sirs?" asked the smiling man with slicked silver hair behind the front counter expectantly, as the inviting heat and hum of diners hit them.
"My apologies, but if I could just borrow a phone instead," the Midgardian terms felt somewhat unwieldy on his tongue, "to book a hostel room?"
After the man directed them to the end of the long counter, a woman there in similar uniform proffered a silver and black rectangle of a device, and a slip of paper with scribbled hostel names and numbers. Loki said, "You could try Bezze Maine. It's moderately priced and quite close."
Thor started punching in the number sequence beside the scrawl "Bezze Maine" with the little grid of numbered buttons.
Some time later – they waited until the snowstorm exhausted itself somewhat – as the restaurant doors swung shut behind them, Thor found himself saying, "Sorry for taking up so much of your time, Br – Loki."
The frigid air nipped his nose, his cheeks, and his scalp through the shorn layer of his hair, but the gales had calmed so that every surface was capped with a smooth new dusting of white. The sprinkles of Christmas lights still danced in the trees and lampposts, like sparks from a forge or the last backlashes of light of Asgard ending. But it was a strangely tranquil scene.
Loki eyed him curiously. He said, somewhat wearily, "It doesn't really matter." Thor may have just imagined something cryptic about that answer.
Before they parted ways – Thor with Loki's spoken directions to the hostel; it was on a street parallel to Calling Avenue – Thor said with what he hoped was not finality, "thank you."
Loki shrugged. "That's what friends are for, apparently." If that was another jibe at Thor's claim of his and Loki's other-dimensional history, it did not sound as harsh.
When Thor finally fell asleep that night, he slept without dreaming. Today he had heard his brother's voice outside his own head. He did not need to dig through his subconscious to resurrect.
