Author's Note:
Xavier is understanding, Loki needs a hug, Cap is a bit of a douchebag, Tony is an awesome boyfriend. Enjoy :)
'I'd throw a lifeline every time,' is from a song called Bones by UK band The Editors.
WARNINGS: Self-loathing, depression, anxiety, negative attitudes towards mental health, internalised prejudice, distress, feels
"Would you like a beverage? Tea? Coffee?" Professor Xavier asked, trying to draw his companion into some sort of conversation.
The dark-haired figure slouching in the adjacent chair shook his head dolefully. He had only spoken two words – 'good morning' – in the half-hour they had been sitting in the library.
Xavier wished he could sneak just a glimpse into the young man's mind – but he heeded Stark's warning and kept out of the god's brain. It's wise to respect a sorceror.
"Loki," Xavier tried again, leaning forward in his wheelchair, "you honestly don't have to talk to me – as odd as that may sound. I will quite happily sit here and read," he gestured at the low tables and the shelves around them – covered with books, "if that is what you wish me to do. I want you to feel safe, and that you can trust me. If we must spend hours in silence for you to do that, then that is what we will do."
Loki lifted his eyes slightly, teeth sinking lightly into his lower lip, not all that sure of the meaning of the words.
"On the other hand," Xavier continued, "if there's something you do wish to talk about – anything at all, then you can say it to me. Sometimes it's easier to talk to someone with only a passing acquaintance, than it is to talk to those closest to us."
Loki's eyelids narrowed, like a cornered wolf.
"But," the Professor added, "you can also talk about things of no consequence," he lightened his voice, trying to seem less threatening, "the weather, sports – not that I know all that much about sports I'm afraid – books, your favourite foods, anything."
Loki shifted a little in his chair.
Xavier had been... surprised... when Loki had entered his library. He'd seen the pictures of the attack on New York (who hadn't?) but had trouble linking this man with the tyrant who had commanded an alien army.
Loki was... well, almost unresponsive. He moved slowly, his eyes were dull, his hair and clothes scruffy and unkempt. He seemed to be observing the world through a glass aquarium – one step removed from the action, everything a little fuzzy and hard to comprehend – and Xavier had immediately understood Tony Stark's concerns. Loki was clearly unwell.
Charles shrugged and picked up a book – he was willing to wait for the Asgardian to come around on his own, and in his own time.
This wasn't formal therapy – Tony had been quite clear that what he wanted was a safe place for Loki to talk, and a possible friend, combined with sufficient knowledge of both psychiatry and Loki's unique situation – and so this was what Charles was trying his best to achieve. Only subtly different from therapy, maybe, but different all the same.
Tony was providing considerable donations to Xavier's school for mutants, as well as mutant-rights causes, in return for Charles' time; this had been Tony's idea, not Charles'.
But, as much as Xavier was trying to keep this informal, he couldn't help but feel that the level of help Loki needed may include medication... or a stay in a residential ward. He was, quite frankly, concerned.
Loki wanted to talk to the bald man in the wheelchair. He really did. His normally quick tongue felt leaden in his mouth. Besides, why would this man want to hear anything Loki had to say? If Loki spoke to him... well, the fellow would surely tell him to 'man up;' to 'behave less like a maid on her wedding night.' That's what would happen.
There was no need for Loki to speak to the man. The man wasn't really interested in him – who would be?
Tony had probably only sent him here so that he could spend some time alone, away from Loki. Probably so that he could think up an easy and painless way to dump him. He must hate it that Loki stunk up his bed every night; who would willingly sleep next to the stink of a Jotnar?
Loki was being selfish by living with Tony; he knew that. Tony was too good a person to simply throw him out – no matter how much he may resent his prescence. But there was nowhere else for Loki to go – nowhere else that he was allowed to go.
Oh Norns, why did he even breathe?
"Loki?" the man said, calling him out of his spiralling thoughts, "Are you alright?"
He was standing. When had he stood up? He stared down at his hands, clenching and unclenching them.
"Are you alright?" Xavier asked again.
Loki shook his head, "No," he whispered, sinking to the chair again, "No, I am not."
His heart was racing, though his limbs moved slowly as he pulled his trembling hands up to his troubled skull.
"Loki," Xavier said calmly, "you need to steady your breathing. Focus on each breath – with me now. Innnn – outtttttt – innnn – and outttttttt. One more – innnn – and outttttttt. Better?"
Loki nodded, though his head still felt a little swimmy, "I... apologise..." he murmured, highly embarrassed.
"For what?"
Loki looked at him, "For making a spectacle."
"There is no need to apologise for being in distress, Loki."
Loki made an unfathomable grunt, which could've meant anything, and dropped his gaze to his lap.
Charles shrugged, "If you don't wish to talk about it, I'll get back to my book... Have you read much 'Midgardian' literature, Loki?"
Loki looked up again, warily, "Not much," he shrugged, "Tony is not much of a reader, and finds it difficult to recommend books I would enjoy."
"Well, there's a problem we can do something about!"
"Tony, Loki's outside the tower."
"Well 'good morning' to you too Cap," Tony grumbled, nursing a hot mug of coffee.
Bruce raised his own mug in salutation.
"Tony," Steve hissed, "Loki's GPS is showing him in Westchester – did you have something to do with this?"
"Time out!" Tony yelped, "You put a fucking GPS on my boyfriend?!"
"You told me he knew!" Bruce yelled out.
Steve turned to Bruce, "No," he said, "Widow told you that he knew," he turned back to Tony, "and it's not on Loki, it's in Loki. Embedded in the base of his skull, actually. He agreed to it, and Bruce implanted it. You may have forgotten it – and taken 'sleeping with the enemy' to a whole new level – but Loki is a prisoner. He's in the custody of the Avengers, Tony. Now, why the hell is he in Westchester? He's not supposed to leave the tower."
"Because," Tony grit out, "I don't know what your view on this is Captain, but I will never refuse medical care – even to a prisoner."
"Medical care?" Cap looked unconvinced, "Bruce is a doctor."
Bruce sighed, "Not that kind of doctor, Cap. We arranged for Loki to have therapy sessions with Xavier. Passed it through SHIELD and everything; they wanted to provide their own doctors, but like fuck any SHIELD shrink is getting within a mile of Loki's brain."
Tony nodded, "Any and all SHIELD medical personnel are denied access to both this building and Loki – Brucie excluded, of course. They want to research him, dissect him, do I-don't-know-what-to-him – and they can't have him."
Steve shook his head, incredulous, "I can't believe this – if the guy's a lunatic, why are you sleeping with him? And, well, if he's not, then why are you sleeping with him? You've compromised yourself soldier."
Tony stood, striding over to Steve purposefully.
"Tonnnyyyyy..." Bruce warned.
Tony stopped – up close to Steve's face. And goddammit, he didn't care that Cap was (marginally) taller, he was the one who had the high-ground here.
"Damn straight I have," Tony growled. "And I would compromise myself all over again – you could reset the world a million times, and you know what? We'd still end up together. Cos for him, Cap," he said 'Cap' as if the word were poisonous, "for him – I'd throw a lifeline, every time."
