A/N:
Okay, so remember when I said this was a one-shot? Turns out I lied.
As I continue with this, I would like to make it clear that I have some conditions. 1.) SPORADIC UPDATES! I will write this when I feel like it. I know that's harsh, but I have very little time and a story that I'm already very committed to. As a concession to the feelings of any readers I may gain, I'll do my best to avoid any painful cliffhangers. 2) I like slash. This story is undoubtedly going to have slashy undertones that I retain the right to turn into slashy OVERtones in the future if I so see fit. I don't have any specific pairings in mind, and the main purpose of this remains Bruce and Loki navigating their messed up-ness together. I'm just saying, don't be shocked by non-hetero elements. 3) I love everyone who supports with reviews, faves, and alerts. That's not a condition, that's just fact.
Any way, hope you enjoy.
Loki had been wrong.
His encounter with the Hulk had not prepared him for his punishment. Not at all.
After they had drained the very last of his magic away, leaving him feeling trapped and heavy inside his own body, that was when his true repentance began.
It was clever, the prince had to give them that much.
They'd started with the terror. In his pride and his wickedness, Loki had believed that having the terror of each of his victims magically injected into his mind would not shake him. He'd even entertained the idea that he would be pleased, rather than disturbed by what he would experience. After all, hadn't he wanted to be feared?
He was sick repeatedly as the emotions he'd caused coursed through him, striking him to his core, and for hours after it was done he could not stop shaking. He lay on the cold floor of his prison, trembling violently with the taste of bile assaulting his mouth. Thor ran into his cell and held him as he shook, but Loki was blind and deaf and numb to his attempts at comfort.
Next came the pain, and Loki had started screaming before the mages had even cast their spell. He didn't want to feel his victims, not again, not ever again. He didn't even have words for the turmoil that crashed against him like waves spitting icey sea spray, stinging across his soul. There were no words.
Thor did not leave him alone for this second round of torment. He sat on the hard floor of Loki's cell and held tightly the crumpled heap that had once thought himself a divine ruler, braving Loki's screams and convulsions, ignoring the stinking vomit still laying pooled beside them.
By the time the sorrow came, Loki was too weak to resist. He laid limply in Thor's arms and let himself be racked by rolling sobs. He was distantly aware of his own whimpers and mewls, yet he could not bring himself to care for his own damaged pride, not in the face of the loss that he felt in the souls of hundreds, thousands more. In that moment, it was their suffering he cared for, not his own.
After this final spell was cast and completed, Loki's debt was seen as paid in full by the laws of Asgard and Odin's ruling. He was invited to leave his cell and return to the personal chambers he had known his entire life.
Loki did not leave his cell for seven days. He did not eat. He did not sleep. He did not move. Thor's encouragement and Frigga's begging did nothing. He would not leave his cell. He could not leave his cell.
For days, the only sign of life in Loki was the beating of his heart and the tears that rolled down his face when Frigga had begun sobbing, screaming at Odin that he had destroyed their son, broken him beyond all recognition with this cruel and unnatural punishment.
No one would ever know what had gone on inside Loki's mind for that haunting week, perhaps not even Loki himself, but on the seventh day, early in the morning when Thor came to beg him once more to eat, Loki had looked up at him and spoke.
"Yes, I'll have some water, thank you," he said, eyes flitting to the tray Thor had brought with him.
Thor had needed to demand a servant fetch new water, because the tray in his hands had gone spilling to the ground as soon as he heard his brother's voice.
Loki let the god of thunder wrap his bulky arms around him, grip his shoulders and cry into his neck. He remembered distantly that he had once quite hated Thor. Now he could summon no feelings on the matter what so ever.
He drank the water presented to him and let it soothe his dry, scratched throat. He was astounded by how delicious it was, almost sweet. He had never appreciated the taste of water before. Now its perfection brought tears to the corners of his eyes. How simple, how beautiful, how forgiving water was…
Thor helped him to his feet, and Loki allowed himself to be guided to his room. He did not know why he needed to be lead there. He'd lived in the palace his whole life, and knew the way to his room, even from the dungeons. Yet somehow he agreed that someone should be with him, as he truly thought he might go wandering off aimlessly in his dazed state. He was collected enough to realize, with almost a disconnected humor, that he was uncollected. He chuckled at what a bizarre notion that was, and Thor gave him a concerned look.
When they reached his chambers Thor led him to the bath and helped him to undress, stripping away the leather and armor that had clung to him for far too long. Loki sat naked on the chilly stone tile of his bathing room while Thor ran steamy water into the tub, testing the water and adding soothing fragrances and healing oils. Loki thought distantly of their childhood baths together, before they'd grown old enough to place privacy above brotherly bonding. He recalled splashing a younger Thor with soapy water, sending it sloshing onto the floor, laughing with joy despite soap suds stinging his eyes.
He meant to laugh at the pleasant memory, but it came out more as a whimper. Alerted by this noise of anguish, Thor turned his attention from the water and looked at Loki with the most heartbroken expression imaginable gracing his handsome face.
Loki looked away, not being able to stand the emotions that Thor's gaze stirred within him. This new found empathy that his punishment had instilled in him was crippling, unaccustomed as he was to caring so deeply. The spells the mages had cast had split deep wounds into him, cracking him apart with cavernous, bloody trenches across his soul, reaching deep into the wells of his blackened heart. Where once he had been so guarded, it now seemed as if anything could reach him.
Thor helped him to sink into the tub. Although his body was more than capable of the task, the pervading weakness of spirit that had overtaken Loki since his punishment left the rest of his being limp and lifeless, feigning a physical weakness where truly there was none.
Loki appreciated the care that Thor had taken with the water. The oils sloughed the dirt and dried sweat from his skin, the hot water working its way into his muscles, releasing the painful knots and cramps that had settled there. The fragrances he appreciated for their beauty, although he suspected that they had not managed to succeed in calming him as Thor might have liked them to.
It was Thor's fingers, thick with cleansing lotion, working their way into Loki's scalp that did the most to ease his troubled soul. He had not asked Thor to wash his hair, and Thor had not offered. He had simply done it, for the sincere reason that he needed some way to take care of Loki, some way to reach out to him.
"Thank you," Loki said, because it needed to be said. Pain washed over him again as the words left his mouth and his voice cracked, yet he felt good for having spoken them. He was only sorry he could not say more. There was a lifetime of things he needed to say to Thor though, and he was not prepared to begin that undertaking yet. All he could do was hope to someday be able.
Thor held a towel up for him and Loki rose from the tub on his own strength, feeling more vulnerable and self conscious now that the water had cleaned and softened his skin. He covered himself in the towel and looked at Thor with nervous eyes.
"Come," Thor said softly, and with a gentle hand at his back led Loki to bed. Relieved that Thor did not seem about to try engaging him in any painful conversation, Loki crawled under the blankets that Thor held back for him. Thor let them settle around him once his brother was in place against the pillows.
Thor sat beside him on the bed and looked at him with concern.
"Are you alright?" he asked softly, a wavering to his usually bold speech.
Loki's head swam at the question. Was he alright? Was anything alright? No, nothing was alright. Everything was wrong. He was wrong, so wrong.
"Yes, Thor. Leave me, I need to rest."
He was proud at how well he had sounded like his old self, giving orders and thinking of his own needs. He imagined that was some comfort to the man who called himself his brother.
Relief did seem to flash in Thor's storm blue eyes, and it was with a tentative smile that he bid fair well to Loki, closing his chamber doors behind him gently.
Once alone, Loki again grew slack and motionless, numbing over as he'd been in his cell. He stared at the ceiling until his eyes grew dry, then slid them shut, drifting off to a deadened sleep.
"Is everything okay?"
Bruce's fingers stilled in their calculative ministrations and he looked up from the screen he'd been working on, turning to glance in Tony's direction. He was surprised by the question his scientific partner had just asked. Tony Stark may have been an incredibly blunt person, but he also had a strange way of being indirect about it. He would ask anyone anything, but always packaged in layers of sarcasm and innuendo. It wasn't like him to be so up front with a personal question.
"Yes, I'm fine," Bruce responded, adjusting his glasses. "Why do you ask?"
Tony shrugged. "You've just seemed distracted the past few days."
Bruce looked away and sighed softly. Tony was right of course. Tony was always right about him. Bruce didn't know why he had to be the one exception to Tony Stark's other wise utter obliviousness to those around him, but from the moment they'd met he seemed to have inspired the man's scrutiny. Bruce had eventually realized that Tony saw him much like any other scientific conundrum, and often caught Tony giving him the same look that he gave uncooperative algorithms and malfunctioning machinery, like he was trying to puzzle him out. He wasn't sure how much of it had to do with his condition as the Hulk, but he knew that Tony found him interesting, and for the most part, he was fine with that. He liked Tony a lot; he'd offered him friendship, a place to stay, a working partnership in his lab, and he wasn't going to begrudge the man a bit of overt speculation.
In this case however…he wanted to keep the truth of his distraction from Tony's prying curiosity. Because really, how would he possibly begin to explain? He wouldn't even be able to get past the fact that Loki had visited him in his room a few days ago before Tony would blow up with disbelief and questions and opinions. He'd probably be offended that Bruce hadn't told him about it as soon as it'd happened, which Bruce wouldn't exactly be able to fault him for. Their team's arch nemesis had broached security and entered their headquarters, and Bruce had been the only one to witness it. By all reason, he should have raised the alarm.
But his encounter with Loki had been…not something he would have ever predicted. It had been illuminating, and meaningful, and altogether potent in a way he couldn't define. It had shaken him to the core, to be free of the Hulk for a few glorious minutes, and yet that wasn't even what his mind kept wandering back to…
He kept thinking about that odd connection that he couldn't deny having felt with Loki. The praise Loki had bestowed on him…claiming him a greater hero than the god of thunder. His parting words, telling Bruce to stay strong. And more than anything else, that shared understanding that had passed between them, expressing something Bruce hadn't even known was there to express. He'd found himself reflected in the Asgardian prince, parallels between them becoming oddly apparent. It fascinated and disturbed him, yet beneath it all…it rather comforted him, although he couldn't say why. Perhaps it was just nice not to feel so all alone in the world.
"Excuse me, Earth to Bruce?" Tony said, waving a hand in front of Bruce's face. Bruce's eyes refocused and he gave the slightest jump, realizing how distracted he'd become.
"Seriously," Tony frowned. "What's up?"
It was nice that Tony cared enough to ask. Bruce knew that Tony's interest in him was primarily motivated by what a mystery he was to Tony, but he held Tony in high enough regard to know that he also truly cared about the people in his life, at least enough to want to see them happy. If Tony thought that something was bothering Bruce, he would want to fix it for him.
"Tony…" Bruce knew that he couldn't keep claiming that nothing was preoccupying him, but he also knew he couldn't tell the full truth. "Do you think anyone understands you?" he asked, his inner thoughts forming the words.
Tony looked taken off guard by the question. "Who, me?" He asked. "Tony Stark? Bruce, I have more money than God, an IQ so high they literally had to create a new test in order to evaluate it, and an utterly dismal ability to connect to other human beings. There really isn't a frame of reference for understanding me."
Bruce nodded. "I always thought it was a bit overrated."
There was that look again. Bruce had to keep an amused smile off his face. He wondered if Tony even knew that he always made the exact same expression each time Bruce confused him.
"Why do you ask?" Tony inquired, trying to piece it together.
Bruce shook his head dismissively. "I suppose it's personal, and too vague if not too complicated to really explain. Sorry if I've been distracted. I'll try to remain more focused from now on."
Tony gave him his patented twisted frown, the one that said he had something to say, but was holding it back despite himself. It occurred to Bruce that perhaps Tony's ability to read him was not a one way street. Bruce always paid careful attention to any queues or tells he could use to predict those around him. It made him feel safer and more secure. But his catalogue of signs and signals relating to Tony Stark just so happened to be his largest collection, and only seemed to be growing with the more time he spent with him.
Yes, there was a part of him that was definitely forming a bond with his teammate, colleague, and friend. Although Tony might have been his complete opposite in many respects, and was usually operating in realms Bruce couldn't even fathom, there were areas where they found themselves meeting each other on the same level, and not just when it came to science either. Those times were nice, and Bruce would probably even say that working with Tony had brought a good deal of comfort to his life.
It was Loki, though, that continued to drive him to distraction. He couldn't stop seeing his Jotun blue skin, his crimson eyes. He couldn't shake the sensation of the Hulk draining away, the green that stained his soul pouring into a container that wasn't him. A container that had been Loki, fallen prince of Asgard, the first multi-dimensional terrorist to grace known existence. A despicable being in all respects.
He couldn't forget the darkness. The darkness of his room as Loki slipped from the shadows, the darkness in Loki's heart, in his moss green eyes. The darkness of the pain they shared.
And that, Bruce supposed, was the crux of it. The reason a part of him called out for Loki when there were any number of worthy companions here on his own team, living in the tower with him.
They were both monsters, and they understood each other.
Thor knocked on Loki's door and heard his younger brother bid him come in.
"You asked to see me?" Thor inquired, speaking with the uneasy care that he'd adopted since their return to Asgard.
"Yes," Loki replied, setting aside the book he'd been reading. When he looked up and met his brother's eyes, it stopped Thor in his tracks.
"What is it?" Thor asked warily, not liking the expression on Loki's face.
"I need your help, Thor," Loki said simply, his eyes telling nothing of what went on behind them, yet somehow managing to fill Thor with anxiety all the same.
Thor was stunned. He had not thought that he would ever hear Loki confess to needing assistance, especially not from him.
"Anything," Thor said, striding to sit beside his brother on his bed.
Loki was silent for a moment.
"I need you to help me leave Asgard."
Thor's brow furrowed deeply. "Brother, don't be mad. Leave Asgard? Why would you even consider such a thing?"
"Thor, I cannot stay here," Loki said, a hint of desperation edging into his voice. "I cannot remain here in my rooms, pampered and protected like I am still worthy of my adoptive parentage. I cannot content myself sipping soup at silent family dinners where father will not look at me and mother will not acknowledge what I am. She asks me to walk the gardens with her, visit the fountains and go riding with her. Each invitation I accept kills me a little more each time. I cannot watch her try to heal something by pretending that it isn't broken."
"But where would you go?" Thor demanded, certain that Loki would have no answer.
"I do not know," Loki admitted.
"Then why leave? This is the best place for you, brother. Stay here, with me, where you're safe!" Thor pleaded.
Loki shook his head, moisture forming in his eyes. "Don't you see, Thor? You're the worst of it! Worse than mother or father. Father grapples with accepting what I've become, mother wishes only to return me to what I was before, but you? You insist on loving me despite what I am. I cannot take it."
"You're my brother!" Thor said, starting to cry himself. "Of course I love you!" he croaked, his deep voice rough with emotion.
"And I love you," Loki said. It hurt so badly to say it. The cracks across him seemed to shatter deeper, rendering the wounds open and seeping anew. "I loved you and expressed it with envy and petulance, and now I must pay that price. I cannot stay here, where I am being taken care of by others. I don't deserve it, Thor, and no good will come of it."
It was the first time Loki had opened up this way in the weeks since he first left his cell, and despite how it pained him, Thor couldn't help but heed his words.
"I will… I will see what I can do," Thor said, and gave Loki a brief kiss on the lips, then to his hairline. Loki found himself comforted by it. He remembered suddenly that they had used to kiss often when they were small boys. It had been sweet and chaste and innocent, an expression of the love they'd shared before the world had pulled them apart.
They'd used to be so close. Why had he forgotten that? Or perhaps he'd remembered, and it'd only helped to fuel his fury. It had once been Thor and Loki, together, until it became Thor and his friends and his heritage and strength and looks, and oh yes, he had a younger brother too.
When Thor left his room Loki threw himself against the mattress and sobbed into his blankets, pounding his fists and saying Thor's name. He told him he was sorry, that he hated himself, that they'd all been right when they'd claimed Thor the golden one and Loki the shadow. It was the first time he'd let himself really cry since his punishment, and it did nothing to ease his soul, although he was utterly powerless to hold it back.
Within days Thor had procured for him the magic that he needed. It burned Loki like acid to accept this one last expression of Thor's love and devotion to him, but he swore that after this he would be done.
"Where will you go?" Thor asked, tears once more streaming from his handsome blue eyes.
"There is only one place I can go," Loki said, his own eyes dry. He had made sure that he would show Thor no tears. He gave Thor a smile, presented it to him like a parting gift, hoping that the memory would stay with Thor and comfort him.
And like that he was gone. Truly gone, not just an illusion disappearing so that the real Loki could step out from behind a pillar or tapestry, laughing for the trick he'd played.
Thor gripped Mjolnir tight and cried, falling into Loki's bed and swearing to memorize the scent in his sheets before it faded.
"It is not as if he is dead," Thor spoke aloud to himself. It did not matter though. He was gone, and that alone was enough to devastate him.
"Do you always read in the dark?"
This time around Loki succeeded in startling Bruce, and he dropped his book.
"Loki!" he said, before clamping his mouth shut and looking nervously towards the door, hoping no one had heard. Although, with an entire floor to himself, as each of the Avengers had for their quarters, it wasn't very likely anyone else in the Tower would have that good of hearing.
"Yes," Loki frowned, as if his name alone were an unpleasant truth.
"Are you…why are you here?" Bruce asked, trying to cover the relief he felt. Why should he feel so relieved to see a man that most would agree to be evil? He didn't want to be faced with that moral dilemma.
"I am here to beg for your help," Loki told him.
For a moment Bruce was stunned. Loki, the god of mischief, was here to beg?
"Help? How?"
"I need…safe harbor. I need a place to reside. I would not ask, but… I have no one else to ask. I assure you that this is not simply in my own interest. I have come to Midgard to find some way to…begin paying my debts."
Bruce was quiet a moment. "You're different…" he said finally.
Loki only looked at him.
"You're sadder," he added.
Loki looked away. "My punishment…let us simply say that I have experienced horror to rival what I felt when last we met."
That, Bruce knew, was substantial.
Bruce frowned, deep in thought. If anyone found out he'd agreed to help Loki…he'd be kicked off the team, possibly charged criminally, and he'd lose everything. He'd lose his home, his safety, his friends, Tony…
"I don't have anywhere to offer you except my quarters. I'm living here on Tony Stark's charity, you see," he told the god.
A look of despair crossed Loki's face. "I understand… I do not blame you for denying me kindness I do not deserve…"
"Huh? No, that wasn't my way of turning you down. I was just saying I don't have much to give. It's not ideal, but hopefully it'll be enough."
Loki could hardly process that. Banner was helping him? Truly?
"It's a little insane," Bruce laughed. "To hide you here amongst the people who would most want to capture you, but no one ever comes down here. Lucky for you I keep myself pretty isolated from the rest of the team."
"Th-thank you," Loki said. Bruce couldn't help focusing on the fact that he'd just heard a god stutter.
"Why would you agree to this?" Loki asked, not thinking he'd be able to truly believe it until he knew.
"Because I don't have it in me to turn you away," Bruce said. "What am I risking anyway? My safety? Yours? We're only two lost souls to begin with."
"You don't believe that this could be a scheme of mine? A trick? What if I'm manipulating you? What if I only wreak more havoc, cause more deaths, all because you trusted me?"
Bruce stared at him.
"The Avengers stopped you once," he seemed to decide. "They could do it again." He frowned, and he wasn't aware of it, but it was an exact imitation of Tony Stark's own twisted frown.
"Besides," he said. "I'm being selfish. I want you here."
That shocked Loki beyond what he thought himself capable of feeling anymore.
"Why, by Odin, would you want…?"
"I'm lonely," Bruce said. "I love my teammates. If I'm really honest with myself, I have to admit that I've come to love them. But I can't seem to connect to them. They all have their own damages, and yet…none of them descend to my depths. You do. It's selfish, but I need that. I need someone who I don't have to pretend with. Someone to just be broken with. I feel like…that could be you. Is that you?" Bruce asked a bit hesitantly.
"Yes," Loki said quietly. "That's me." It was what had drawn him to Bruce for help when he'd had no other refuge. He had felt, intuitively, that if anyone would be there for him in his devastation it would the one being he'd ever met that could match it. It was almost too incredible to hear that Bruce felt the same way, that their shared damage had touched Bruce as it had touched Loki. They were practically strangers to each other, and yet there they were…
"Good," Bruce smiled. "Then you can stay here. Do your best not to be found out. I'd rather not have everything go to utter shit if I can help it."
A/N:
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