Chapter 8
I've fallen from grace
Took a blow to my face
I've loved and I've lost
I've loved and I've lost
Explosions...on the day you wake up
Needing somebody and you've learned
It's okay to be afraid
But it will never be the same
And Loki had honestly believed it would be okay. For a little while he had been able to honestly believe those words, to hid himself in Thor's presence and away from the outside world, playing house and telling himself that it didn't matter that there were guards searching for them, they would be safe here in the hands of friends. Thor's friends.
Yet despite this forced optimism, somewhere deep inside him, Loki realised it couldn't last like this forever. Kept hidden away in the residence of Thor's friends, playing house or damn near with Thor's circling each other for four wonderful long weeks. Loki had been cheating fate. Weaving spells daily and nightly, spells to block dreams, spells to repress memories, the most abstract and complex he could think of in order to push back any more remberings that might come his way. He didn't know what it was, but something told him that there were more to come, and that once he had remembered those, there would be no going back for him. Maybe even for Thor as well.
Instead he plunged himself headfirst into something he had never really tried before; making friends. There had only been two people in his life who had ever been close enough to be friends before, one of them he loathed with every fibre of his being, the other was so sweet and loving that Loki felt immediately guilty just by being in her presence, regardless of whether he'd done something wrong or not. Bruce, Tony, and even Steve were different to that.
He and Bruce immediately fell into an easy, comfortably quiet relationship, often speaking quietly over tablets filled with documents and stories, on topics ranging from magic and runes to the differences in anatomy between a Midgardian and an Asgardian. Tony Loki found was the best candidate to sharpen his wit against, verbal battles often escalating to new heights as Tony invented and tinkered and Loki watched from the side-lines, often invading his working space and moving everything so it was an adventure every day for Tony to locate his projects. Tony called it a pain. Loki called it tidying. Thor, who had only heard half the conversation, asked weren't those two the same thing?
Steve still didn't trust him. Loki was sure of it. Regardless of Steve allowing Loki to hide in the house along with Thor, the Jotun was certain beyond doubt that Steve still looked at him with suspicion, narrowed eyes that could see him as the only reasonable explanation for the guards to be after Thor. Loki didn't blame him.
He often blamed himself.
Whenever he did, Thor would manage to gravitate towards him, taking him aside and distracting him from his worries. He didn't know how Thor did it, but the blonde seemed to have suddenly developed the ability to sense Loki's emotions from a room away, always appearing the second he started to sink into depression or worry. Loki would be curled on the sofa, staring with narrowed eyes at the door, wondering how fast he would be able to run to distract any Einherjar away from the house, how many illusions he could generate as a distraction until he became exhausted and succumbed to capture –
Then suddenly Thor would be there, standing in the doorway, eyebrows raised at Loki. He didn't always speak; sometimes they found it surprisingly easy to communicate without even needing to open their mouths.
'Why are you staring into space like that?' Raised eyebrows.
'…I'm not entirely sure.' Shrugged shoulders, wide eyes.
'Liar.' Concerned frown.
'…' A sigh, 'I don't want to be caught. I don't want you to be caught. I don't want your friends to suffer because of us.'
'Our friends, Loki. They do not do this only for my sake.'
'You do not know that!' Wide eyes, disbelieving.
'I do.' Firm gaze. Unwavering faith in his friends, and in Loki himself.
A weak smile, extended arms. Thor gladly returned Loki's embrace, allowing the decorated being to pull him down onto the seat. Moments like this were becoming more frequent between them, but Thor tried to squash down the hope he was feeling. Loki's feelings seemed fragile, worrying, and he reached out to Thor more and more, in a way he would never had in their first few days together. It was the stress, most likely. Loki and Thor had been thrown into something headfirst and had only each other to rely on. That was enough to force any two people together. Thor didn't want that to be the only reason for them to be in a relationship, and neither did Loki.
But for Loki, since arriving at the house, as the spells began to take effect and push back the invasive memories, and Thor was there to help hold back the worries, Loki found himself falling for the blonde. Really, truly falling for him, in a way he wasn't sure he would be able to with all the foreign feelings in his head. He wouldn't say it out loud. There was something about saying it out loud that rubbed Loki the wrong way; this was something special and tiny but growing quickly and Loki knew he would have to say it eventually, but for now he kept it hidden inside, quiet in his mind.
That didn't stop it from leaking over into his actions. Loki swore that Thor was rubbing off on him, perhaps even literally. The Jotun had never been a tactile person before, preferring to hide beneath his beloved cloak, concealing his body away from prying eyes and probing fingers. Being gripped by Thor in his sleep and even holding hands had been strange and unsettling, and something he didn't think he'd ever grow used to. His cloak was now hung up by the door, and had been for a fortnight at least, brushing of hands with Thor and nudging of shoulders becoming frequent. Then the kisses began.
The first one had surprised Loki just as much as Thor. They had been sat together upon Loki's temporary bed, Thor laughing loudly at the trick Loki had just pulled on Tony which had sent the two of them running to his room for safety against the irate mechanic. Loki's grin had been close to splitting his face, and he drank in Thor's features, so happy and relaxed, and his smile had drooped. His gaze had turned to something strange, and fascinated, as he reached out to press cool fingertips to Thor's cheeks. The touch silenced Thor's laughter, but Loki barely allowed him time to turn curious blue eyes towards him before he had guided their mouths together, pressing himself against Thor delicately.
Thor hadn't responded for a moment, before he had pressed back, eagerly, taking Loki's face in both his hands, feeling to Loki like he could engulf his entire head, his entire body with touch and heat. He had sunk against Thor, pressing them together for as long as he could before they had to part, breathing heavily. They had stared at each other for several long, long moments before Loki had leant forward, leaning his head against Thor's shoulder so his long hair obscured his face. Thor rested his arms gently around Loki, not pulling him any closer, but still offering him comfort. Loki had no idea how he could be so patient. They still stayed in separate rooms, Thor in his original room, Loki tucked away in a temporary room in the roof of the house. Loki didn't know how to progress the relationship, and Thor was being a near saint when it came to dealing with Loki's strange whims and sensibilities.
Despite this patience, and their separate rooms, Loki would often wake in the middle of the night to find a warm body pressed against him, Thor's beard tickling against his neck, or sometimes tucked under his chin as Thor wrapped his arms around Loki and curled in towards him. It was on those nights that Loki would silently raise his decorated arms, and weave every protective spell he knew over Thor casting golden light over his sleeping love and making him shine. Thor would press closer, and Loki would kiss him gently, without waking him, and allow himself to fall back to sleep.
Perhaps if Thor had been with him he would have been safe that night. The first night he had slept alone in weeks, suddenly became the night he died.
"Thor- Thor! Stop, I can't- can't-"
"Loki, we must keep moving! I'm sorry but you must try!"
"I am trying, I am, but I…"
"Loki!"
A long red cape swept around Loki's knees as Thor thudded down beside where he had fallen, the colours of the rainbow bridge – the bifrost – arms coming to grip his shoulders. Loki could feel the metal and fabric of his elaborate clothing digging into his arm. More elaborate than they had wished; situations had changed; they had been forced to act drastically. They had only just managed to discard their helmets, watching the metal objects, so representative of them, their characters and all they were discarding, tumble into the darkness of space.
It had brought them both grim, heart-thumping satisfaction.
They had come so close, so close to freedom they couldn't fail now. But Loki's breath was catching, as he clutched as his chest, feeling bile rise. "Thor, please," he gasped out, "you can still… you can get past Heimdall, you can defeat him, and then, you can esca-"
"I will not go without you!" Thor hissed, furious that Loki would even suggest it. "Brother, we will go together. I stand by what I said. Do you remember, brother?" his gaze on Loki was steady, Loki slowly met it and they spoke in hesitant sync,
"We were raised together. We fought together, we played together."
"We will always be together." Thor assured him, burying a kiss in Loki's hair, peppering them across his brow, and catching Loki's lips.
"Live together, die together," Loki murmured as they pulled apart, and his gaze hardened with determination. "I will continue. I will cope." He pushed himself up on shaky hands, gripping Thor's arms. Thor clapped Loki's reassuringly in return and they hurried on.
They would make it. Loki was sure of it, they could do this, they would reach Midgard, and they would be ok. But then suddenly there was more yelling, there were guards, Einherjar surrounding them, and suddenly it was all battling and throwing spells furiously in every direction.
And he didn't know how it happened, but in the thick of battle, Loki found himself almost next to Thor, reaching out for the blonde – maybe, just maybe, they were so close –
And then his whole world was wiped blank, of all but the wide, wide expanse of empty space, and the whiteness of Thor's shocked expression, as they tumbled down into death.
Loki's cry was strangled as he awoke, wet with sweat that slowly crackled into ice as he returned to a cooler temperature waking, his dream having forced his temperature to rise. Dream. Memory. Nightmare. Loki understood. He had died – he had actually died, and now he understood. He understood everything. And he was horrified at what he had done. At what the others had done. He was moving without conscious action the next thing he was aware of was pulling on his boots, tunic and leggings already on, and hurrying down the stairs towards the door. It was still late, there was no sign of a sunrise yet. Although he was only conscious of having relived one memory, it seemed to have acted as a key, unlocking a flood of information in his mind, including an entire slew of faces and names – some of which were decidedly more familiar than others.
He had to go back home. He was fairly sure that he could make it without being caught; he would have to, this was far too important to leave. He had a long overdue conversation with a certain woman. He had his cloak from the hook, now wrapped securely around his shoulders. It was a testament to just how lost in thought he was that he didn't notice the presence behind him before that moment.
"Loki?"
The sudden voice made him pause, and he spun around to see Thor behind him, bleary eyed but growing ever more conscious as he took in the Jotun's appearance, the heavy cloak settled around his shoulders as it hadn't been for all those weeks, boots tightly strapped around his thighs. To Thor's eyes, Loki must look as though he was about to run away. Which has wasn't. You are though, a voice piped up in Loki mind, you have no choice but to run. You know what will happen to him, happen because of you if you don't.
"Thor," Loki bit out, terser than he intended to, and winced at the tone. Thor stepped forward, into the dim moonlight falling through the window, illuminating his features. "I'm going to come back," Loki spoke up quickly, guiltily. Gods. Had he really been about to leave with not even a word to Thor? Thor, who of all people deserved to know everything that Loki was keeping crammed in his head?
But ever-trusting Thor did not take it as guilt, took Loki at his word and stepped forward again, reaching out to touch Loki. Loki flinched as Thor's hand drew close to his cheek, making Thor hesitate. In the end it was Loki who pulled Thor's hand forward, pressing it against his own cheek. The ice had crumbled away, and the contrast between their skin temperatures made both men shiver.
"I thought…I wondered if you didn't like it here," Thor confessed softly. "If you were leaving because you hated it, or hated me, or"
"No! Never," Loki told him, hurriedly, fiercely. "I do not hate you Thor I have never, and I will never. Neither do I hate your friends." He took a deep breath, eyes closing, "Tony and Bruce have both become dear friends to me. Steve also, although I fear he may still not trust me. I never…planned to leave like this. I always intended to return. Please believe me."
A coil of something sickening worked its way into his gut; begging for belief. The Liar, the Trickster, trying to trick his way out of another scheme gone wrong for him. Oh Gods.
Thor didn't accuse him of lies, didn't attack him for not saying anything, instead pulled him close, resting their foreheads together. "Then were are you going?" he asked gently, and Loki pulled away with a sigh that spoke volumes of distaste.
"I need to see a witch," Loki told him, and Thor's heart thumped. There were many who claimed to have the gift of sorcery, but more often than not, it was little more than parlour tricks. Any sorcerers with real talent were either snapped up and taken by Asgard, or had skill enough to hide themselves from Heimdall's probing sight. Judging by Loki's gaze, it was not any old soothsayer or palm reader that Loki was going to see.
"…Can I come?" he asked quietly, not really expecting the answer he wanted. Indeed, Loki shook his head, although Thor was comforted as Loki's hand snuck out from under the folds of his cloak to dance nervously over Thor's fingers and knuckles, one press away from holding his hand.
"Not this time," Loki told him, firmly. "I wish you could come she is not a woman I enjoy meeting with, let alone one on one…but this isn't something you can hear."
Thor's heart sank. Loki was keeping secrets, and he wasn't even trying to disguise the fact that he was doing so. Although, he supposed, there was something comforting in the fact that Loki was not lying to him. And yet, in the back of his mind, something was nagging, telling him that for Loki not to be lying was something to worry about far more that Loki speaking the truth. Loki's hand had finally retracted, and he was making his way towards the door, glamour already sneaking up and around his features, as Thor followed to stand by the door as he left.
"Come back safely," were his parting words, and a faint curving of blue lips was his only response as Loki slunk away into the dark.
It will never be the same.
