Burke Institute

Chapter Two


Clint found Thor gazing at Loki through the plastic window. His expression was sad. The brunette waited for a few minutes before moving over to cautiously interrupt his silent thoughtfulness.

"He's probably feelin' better now. They gave him some meds overnight. You could try to talk to him." Thor turned his head to look at Clint, surprise written over his features. The short man mustered a smile. "He seems to like talkin' to you, so maybe you can get him to open up."

Thor nodded, allowing a small smile to cross his lips as he did so. He lifted his hand to the knob, and then paused. "How long until–"

"Lunch is in an hour, but I dunno if he'll go out with everyone else."

With a nod and a reassuring pat on the back, Clint turned to leave. Thor watched him retreat down the corridor before turning the knob of the door. He opened it slowly; carefully, almost, and stepped into the brightly lit room. Emerald eyes darted to fix on him.

The ravenet was strapped to the white cot in an upright position, belts crossing his chest, thighs and shins horizontally. He was pale, and looked tired – not physically, because the medicine that had been injected directly into his bloodstream had forced his body into unconsciousness – but rather, emotionally and mentally exhausted. There was not a trace of the violent being Thor had witnessed the previous night; only a vulnerable, weary man sat before him. Thor felt his sadness surface in his eyes and expression as he pulled the single chair within the room forward to sit beside the cot. Loki was quiet for a long moment, and silence wrapped around them like a light blanket. Finally, Thor thought the moment was right to speak.

"Hello, Loki," he murmured, baby blue irises resting wistfully on the dark-haired male. Loki's brows crinkled together momentarily, almost as if hearing his name upon Thor's lips caused him some sort of emotional pain or discomfort. Thor made a mental note not to speak his name anymore in the immediate future. Loki raised his eyes to meet Thor's gaze hesitantly.

"Do you think me mad now, Thor?"

The blond stared at Loki for a moment, and then shook his head. "No, Loki. I think you need a friend."

To Thor's dismay, Loki's jade eyes began to water. For a second, the man hesitated. Then, against his better judgment, Thor reached forward to unfasten the straps that bound Loki's body to the cot. The slighter man sat quite still as Thor worked to remove the belts, but the very moment the last one fell from his body to hang limply from the cot, Loki lunged forward to bury himself against the larger man's body. Thor remained motionless for a moment, rather surprised, but when he heard a muffled sob escape the ravenet's lips, his arms came around the man protectively. His brows furrowed as Loki trembled against him.

"It's alright," he murmured, smoothing a hand over the smaller one's back. "I've got you. You're alright now."

Thor had never been one for comforting others; he was sympathetic, yes, but the act of reassuring was something he had never quite grasped in his lifetime. Thankfully, it seemed like Loki did not require many words of comfort. Simply lying in Thor's arms seemed to calm him, and his crying soon began to cease. His trembling continued, though, and Thor did not release him.

"Loki," he whispered. "Tell me what is wrong. Please. I swear to you I will not speak a word of it to another soul."

Loki held his breath for a short moment, and Thor almost did not expect a response until Loki let his breath out in a quick, hard sigh. Thor felt his heart jump in his chest. Was Loki going to tell him something new...?

"I–... I lied to you," he whispered, long fingers clutching Thor's bicep. Thor shook his head.

"It is alright," he murmured. "I do not blame you for anything, Loki."

Loki swallowed, tightening his slender hands into fists as he clenched Thor's t-shirt in his palm. Thor vaguely wondered if Loki thought he was going to stand up and leave, or perhaps even disappear into thin air. The blond tightened his hold on the slighter man, as if to reassure him that he would not be going anywhere anytime soon.

Suddenly, it dawned upon him. "... Did someone leave you, Loki? Did someone abandon you during your lifetime?" The raven-haired man sniffled and nodded quickly, seeming to be ashamed by the topic. Thor frowned deeply. He pulled back, maintaining his grip on the man's slender shoulders. "Rest assured that I will take what you say here to my grave, Loki."

The smaller man hesitated for a long while. Thor feared he had pushed Loki too far in his questioning and the man would distance himself now and never speak another word around him. But, finally, after what seemed like hours, Loki spoke.

"My mother," he whispered, almost inaudibly. His lips continued to move, meaning to say more, but no sound came out. Thor slowly brought the man back into his arms, embracing him and holding him close. Loki was silent, save for the occasional sniffle.

"How old were you when she left?" Thor dared to ask. Loki answered almost immediately, though his voice trembled.

"Seven years old."

"That is quite young," Thor replied quietly. The gears began to turn in his head. In Loki's original story, he had lived with his mother while his father had been away on business. If this new development was true and Loki's mother did not exist in his life, then whom did he live with before he was admitted to the institution? "May I ask why she left?"

At that, Loki's fingers clenched Thor's skin almost painfully. Thor winced. "You don't have to answer if you don't want to," Thor murmured softly, his lips nearly brushing the man's hair. Loki was silent; simply clinging onto Thor as if he were a lifeline.


"So you got through, huh? Broke down those walls?"

"It will take quite some time to 'break down his walls,' as you say."

"Yeah, yeah. But I mean, he told you some stuff."

"Yes."

"I guess he just likes you." Clint smirked as he unloaded a water jug from the supply truck.

"He needs someone to ask the right questions. That is all," Thor replied, stacking two boxes of canned food upon each other before lifting them from the truck.

"So you're really not gonna tell any of the psychologists?"

"I swore to him," Thor murmured, his voice strained as he hauled the boxes into the building through the open garage door. Clint grabbed a single box and hurried after him. "I swore to him on my life."

"You can't even tell me?"

Thor set his boxes down beside the others and sighed. "Let's just say that his story about his life is not completely true."

"Well everyone knows that. How do you know he didn't lie to you again?"

Thor paused, turning to look at Clint doubtfully. The brunette idly shrugged one shoulder. "I mean, you gotta remember that lying is like second nature to him. Most of the time he doesn't even realize he's doing it. He may think he's telling the truth, but he'll realize later that he lied."

"I believe he was telling the truth," Thor murmured, walking past Clint. "He was very upset. It was genuine."

"If you say so," Clint said, stumbling over his feet to follow him. Thor bit his tongue as they returned to the supply truck.


Thor was startled from his slumber by the shrill ringing of his cellphone. It buzzed along the side table, vibrating as it rang. Rubbing an eye sleepily, he stretched his arm from the warmth of his sheets to pick it up and push the answer button. "Hello?" he said groggily.

"Thor?" The blond sat up, a little more alert once he recognized Clint's voice.

"It is me."

"Hey buddy, sorry to wake you up."

"No, it's alright. What's up?"

"It's, ah..." Clint paused, and the line crackled with static at his silence. "It's Loki."

"What about him?" Thor asked immediately, gripping the phone tightly in his hand. Clint was quiet for a few seconds – too long for Thor's short patience. "Tell me!"

"He attacked me. Stole my pistol. He's holed up in the kitchen and not even the infirmary guys can get close enough to tranquillize him without him threatening to shoot them. Apparently someone spilled the beans about the transfers."

Thor sat there for a moment, allowing Clint's words to sink into his mind as he attempted to work the situation out. Then, he stood, holding the phone to his ear with his shoulder as he pulled sweatpants up his leg. "... You need me to come in."

"You're the only one he listens to..." Clint's voice sounded apologetic. "Boss is hoping you can negotiate with him. Or at least get the gun outta his hand."

"I'll be right there."

Not five minutes later, Thor was speeding down the dark stretch of highway carved through the thick forest to the institution in his Subaru. Thor had never driven to Burke at night; usually only one guard was needed for security during after hours, and Clint always worked graveyard. Honestly, Thor did not understand how Clint could work so many hours in one day. He nearly lived at the institute. Thor had no idea of his home life, but he had to assume that the brunette had no family or attachments outside of Burke.

He was surprised that there were no flashing blue and red lights when he pulled into the parking lot. He parked hastily by the curb and half-jumped, half-tripped out of his car to jog in through the front door. Two nurses led him through the corridors quickly, but he ran ahead of them once he saw Clint.

"Are you alright?" Thor could see the beginnings of a bruised eye on Clint's face, and he held back a wince. The brunette shrugged.

"Yeah, I've been worse. Jack's about to call the cops."

"No. Don't call the police." Thor glanced at Jack, then around at the frightened group of workers. There were not many of them due to the fact that it was nighttime and not many worked so late, and about half of the small number had been dispatched to make sure none of the other patients escaped from their quarters during the chaos.

"Let me try to reason with him first," Thor murmured. Some looked uncertain. Clint, being the most senior employee present and, therefore, in charge, gave the final nod.

"If we hear any sign of a struggle, we're dialing."

Thor nodded in understanding, and then turned the corner to the kitchen door. There were no windows upon the door, and it simply swung open when pushed forward. Thor stopped, taking a breath to calm himself, and then he spoke.

"Loki?" No response. "Loki, it is me, Thor. I'm going to open the door now." Silence. Cautiously, the man outstretched his arm to nudge the door open. He peeked inside, edging forward to peer further into the kitchen until he spotted Loki.

The lean man was pressed up against the corner where a counter and cabinet intersected. He seemed to shrink into himself when Thor laid eyes upon him. He was silent. The blond stepped onto the tile, boots making a soft thud as he allowed the door to swing shut behind him. Quietly, he took a step forward. Loki swallowed hard and raised the gun he held in two shaky hands to point it at Thor's figure. The larger man found himself gazing down the short barrel of a shaking pistol.

"Loki," Thor murmured, his voice low and quiet. "Please listen. You're alright now. There's no need to–"

"They're going to transfer me...!" Loki cried, his voice hoarse and cracking. His hands shook more from the effort. Thor's brows furrowed. "They're going to drag me away from this place, whether I like it or not! Whether I fight or not, it will not matter...!"

"I would not allow it," Thor murmured huskily. Two tears trickled down Loki's cheeks slowly as he bared his teeth.

"I don't want to go!" he shouted suddenly, startling even Thor, and he recovered from his jump quickly.

"Loki, listen to me," Thor said, keeping his voice low as he slowly approached the ravenet. Loki's entire body trembled. "You are not going anywhere."

"I don't want to go without you...!" Loki choked out, knuckles beginning to turn white from gripping the gun so tightly. Thor was quiet for a moment, allowing the man's words to sink in. Did Loki truly mean that? Despite the situation, Thor felt the choked-out-sentence hit home within him, and it only drove him further to retrieve the gun from the man without any casualties.

"I would go with you," Thor said gently, only about four feet from Loki now.

"No," Loki cried, tears streaking down his face. "You couldn't..." He sank to crouch on the floor with his back against the counter, shaking his head repeatedly; almost methodically. "No, no..." he whispered. The pistol slowly changed direction, dropping until the barrel now pressed against Loki's temple. Thor's eyes widened. Suddenly, the situation was even more desperate.

"Loki–... Loki, no–"

"Don't leave me," the man whispered, chin trembling. Thor took another large step forward, closing the distance between them. He stood above him.

"I won't. Don't you leave me," the blond said softly, reaching out to him. "Please, Loki, give me the gun, and I swear to you that I will never leave you."

Ever-so-slowly, Loki lowered the pistol from his head, dragging the end down his cheek and jaw until it rested on his collarbone. A sob escaped his throat. Thor inched closer, only breathing a sigh of relief when his fingers wrapped around the gun and pried it from Loki's sweaty hand. He set the weapon on the counter above them and kneeled back down to envelope the man in his arms. He held him there, even as Clint and a few others came in to take the pistol and penetrate Loki's bicep with a needle.

"I will not leave you," Thor whispered as Loki unwillingly drifted into unconsciousness.

And he didn't. As he was carrying the man back to his room, Thor finally understood. He laid Loki down on his cot and watched him sleep. Only then did he realize that he'd fallen in love with the man.