Warnings: Language, adult situations, possible violence, allusions to mature subject matter (ie. Various forms of assault/torture/etc.)
Summary: What do you get when you mix embittered!depressed!enraged!Loki (doing time on Midgard) and Christmas together? Tony Stark wants to find out, especially when he begins to realize that the God of Mischief needs a little bit of Christmas cheer. Of course, Thor is in. Who else comes along for the ride? Will you?
Comments: This is not a slash fic. Sorry. It's Loki-centric, although I definitely show the rest of the Avengers and etc. Please review! Constructive criticism welcome (especially this is my first time writing for Avengers fandom)!
Disclaimer: I do not own Avengers. Marvel owns it. I do not get paid for this piece of work. Sadly, but understandably. LOL.
THANKS TO EVERYONE WHO'S REVIEWING! Keep showing the Christmas love! I'll be updating right through the holiday, so after you have opened your presents and eaten whatever Christmas meal you enjoy, you can sit down and expect to see a new chapter regardless in your inbox!
Christmas Magic
Chapter 9
Run, Loki, Run!
"Out of all the reindeer you know you're the mastermind
Run, run Rudolph, Randalph's not too far behind
Run, run Rudolph, Santa's got to make it to town
Randalph he can hurry, he can take the freeway down
And away went Rudolph a whizzing like a merry-go-round [...]
Run, run Rudolph, run, run Rudolph, a running like a son-of-a-gun."
("Run, Rudolph, Run" - sung by Bryan Adams)
Loki has a secret. A deep, dark secret. He would rather die than admit to it. To the sad, strange fact. To the Secret. To his inner self. To his true self. To the fact that he is, or rather was (for the longest time, longer than he should have allowed himself to be), a closet optimist.
It's hard being a closet optimist. It means putting on a resigned, 'of course, it had to be this way' look, when deep down inside, one is screaming, 'what in all of Helheim do you THINK YOU ARE DOING, THOR!'. It meant that when Father said that one of his sons would take the throne, Loki had, for a good part of his early childhood, actually thought it could be him. And when it had become more and more apparent that it wouldn't be him, Loki had put on a face of disappointment, but already his inner optimist was saying things like, 'Well, you never wanted it really' or 'It's smarter to be the wise advisor at your brother's side, he can wrestle with all the deadly dull, bombastic ceremonies'.
In a sick and twisted way, Loki had been an optimist right up until the end (it was all for the good of Asgard and the glory of his not-people, for the approval of his not-father). The end being that moment, when he searched his father's face for anything. Anything. A speck of hate. A speck of pride. A speck of sorrow. There had been only disappointment.
"No, Loki."
And he had let go. And somewhere, deep down inside, Loki's inner child died.
Falling into a space-time rift, getting sucked into a black hole, wandering cold worlds alone, falling into the hands of the Other and Tha – no, we do not even THINK his name – That's all bound to have an effect one's optimism.
So, waking up on his small piece of cardboard, feeling not as bad as he had been feeling for the past three months, Loki knew that the Norns had to be somewhere out there, cooking up something particularly hellish for him.
He woke up to loud voices.
Jacko and Emile shook their heads at his inquiring look and Loki noticed the visitors, a group of ten or so men, were poking a stoic Paddy in the chest. Barker was standing next to him, looking paler than ever.
"Who –"
Jacko shook his head and murmured, "Bookies. Don't look this way and they'll not bother ya. That'd be Niels. He's a tough son of a bitch who'd sooner shoot your balls off if you even look at him sideways. Shit, speak of the devil, he's coming over here."
Loki froze and stared down at his hands which lay on his knees, forcing them to stay still as he glared at the floor. Three of the men were going through Barker's and Paddy's things.
"Listen, you bitches," the man called Niels cursed. "If you two are even thinking of holding back on me –"
"We aren't," Paddy replied calmly. "The first money I get goes to you. Always."
"What he says," Barker added nervously.
"The hell it does," grunted Niels. "People like you would gut your granma for cold cash. And –" His eyes fell on the new member of the group. "What's his problem?"
"Oh... that's Looney," Paddy replied easily.
"Looney? Hm..." Niels eyes raked over the thin figure, the worn leathers, the outlandish costume and the intense stare directed at the floor. "You sayin' he's soft in the head? Paddy, Paddy – you've gotta pick better ones than this."
Loki's head jerked upwards and he glared at Niels. For a heartbeat, Niels fingers twitched and he frowned at the sharp face looking up at him, the vivid eyes which promised violence.
"Or maybe not," he said slowly. He turned thoughtfully back to contemplate Paddy and his group. "Tonight. I'll be back. You better have something by then. Let's look lively, boys."
Watching the men leave, Paddy exhaled and took a seat with a deep sigh.
"That was close. I don't know why, but he's giving us time. Looney, you should be careful. You don't want to get in the sights of that kind of man."
"I won't," Loki promised glibly. "I will not look for trouble but I will deal with it – if it comes knocking on my door."
"Fair enough," Paddy conceded. "You a gambling man, Looney?"
"No."
"Good. Keep it that way."
"Think we have time for the routine?" asked Jacko, worried. "You gotta get some dough, dammit. Niels isn't fucking around this time."
"Yeah, well. Can't go the whole day without something in my belly. I don't know about you boys, but I'm thinking of doing a few jobs before lunch. Say, we meet at the soup kitchen – eleven fourty-five?"
"Sure thing."
Everyone split up, Loki drifting uncertainly after Paddy and Jacko. Paddy jerked his head in invitation, so Loki drew closer and left the building with the two, wondering what the man had meant when he mentioned 'jobs'. It turned out to be fairly simple, menial labour involving carrying wood and stone around some building site. After the shift, the men picked up a small gift in cash and shuffled out for their lunch.
That was when the day really went pear-shaped.
-0-0-0-
Watching his brother – no, it's just Thor now, just Thor – and the Iron Man approach, Loki felt like all of his worst premonitions had just come true. Of all the people he would not wish to see today, Thor had to appear before him, wearing his usual sorrowful, patient look. There was no pity there, for which Loki was greatful, but there were many other things. Complicated things. He raised his hands. I don't want to fight. Please. Not today.
Thor drew close, his hands rose and Loki wanted to pull away and run, run, run, run – but he knew the futility of it, even as his brothers large paws closed about him and drew him closer. In his current condition of ongoing exhaustion and hunger, Loki was weaker than a kitten compared to Thor. If it was just the Ironman, I could – I could. How low have I fallen to end up trying to delude myself? Even against the Man of Iron, I would still be able. To. Do. Nothing, he gritted out the truth to himself. And so, I'll always be the easy target for them to hunt down –
"What are you doing here? Come to laugh as well? Do you not have your woman to think of – or will I always remain better sport?" He asked, raising his chin, glaring at his brother, wishing his mental powers could return so he could drill holes through the idiot's head and watch his brains melt from the pressure of his gaze. Thor's hand rose in that familiar way and for a moment, Loki's blood turned to fire and his bones to liquid and from far away he could hear his brother saying, "I'm not here to do anything."
"Really," he managed to get out with passable calm and a smile. "Really? It is amusing – but that I cannot believe. Let me guess. That pitiful group of humans you call friends wish me to turn myself in – perhaps they've built another cage for the – for the likes of me." Loki's hands curled into fists, ragged nails biting into his own flesh and drawing blood. "Well, I have news for you, brother. I may not – may not be –" I may not wield the power I held before. I may not be what I was before. But, but, but – "I will die– do you hear me? - DIE before I return there."
Thor shook his head. "I would not imprison you again. You have spent the time required of you. This is merely but a chance at a second life, little brother. But you do not look yourself and I am concerned."
It was too ludicrous. Of course he's not here to do anything. I'm nothing now. I couldn't even fight a human without being tortured in a thousand ways thanks to the spell. It would be against Aesir law to touch me since I rank no higher than a mortal. And the very mortals who should kneel in awe of me may stand by and laugh – and laugh – and why shouldn't they? I am indeed in a laughable state.
The laughter tore out of him, painfully. It had been so long since he had last laughed. And this was something cutting and sharp and painful and it was as if his very throat were bleeding. And he could not stop until his brother pulled him closer and he could catch the faint scent of wood and pine and metal. It cut through his self-ridicule as a wave of memory arose.
Although it was now long gone after five months, Loki thought he could smell the pungent aroma of horse and sweat and blood. For a moment, his brother's hand in his hair, strong fingers clasping him close, Loki was back on the battlefield, comforted after yet another near death experience. Or when his brother found him alone, trying to pull together the tatters of his pride and confidence after the Court finished taunting (it's just teasing, Thor said, a little jest, Loki) him during the revels. Those were the moments when his brother would come and make it all right. And it was Thor's fault. The one who began it all. In the end, it was up to Loki to pick up the pieces.
"That's... that's rich coming from you." He said slowly, his hands rising. "Please, leave me in peace. Let me go." He tried to pry himself away from his brother's embrace but Thor wasn't having any of it. Panic welled up. "Let me go, Thor! Let. Me. Go."
He tore away. But no. That's not the truth. He let me go. Panting, chest heaving, eyes glittering and face suffused with horror, Loki glared at the two men. If they wanted, they could take me now – and I would not be able to resist. They must never know – can never guess. Never. Never. Never.
"Loki," Thor sighed, his blue eyes shining with hurt. As always. "We want to bring you home – to celebrate the winter festival with us."
"Home? Us? We?" Loki pushed down the alarm rising within him. "It's Odin, isn't it? He wants to see how his pitiful little Jotun is doing, doesn't he? Wants to ensure his pathetic pawn doesn't die on him and make his grand gesture as meaningless as it truly is!"
"Father?" Thor blinked.
Loki frowned, realizing that Thor was genuinely confused. Not Father. But of course not. Never him. Not even now.
"No. Us. We. The Avengers. Son of Stark and Bannerson – all the others. And Jane is here, too. Truly, I think you would enjoy meeting her, since she is very much a person like yourself, brother, intelligent and very much beyond my understanding in regards to her learning. So there will be good conversation, such as you will enjoy. And there will be food, and singing, and a warm place to stay –"
Listening to his brother's prattle, Loki felt like everything inside needed to come exploding outwards – as if he were on fire from within. To be pitied by them! By the very ones he had planned, perhaps, perhaps, still planned, to crush beneath his feet!
"I do not need your charity! I brought this on myself. I will endure it. Alone. I will not succumb. I will become stronger and I will return – oh yes, and I will –"
And that's when the others had come out and Loki had made his escape. Cowardly, he thought later as he basked under the warmth of what Jacko and Paddy had called 'showers', but then, I am, in the end, only Loki, the lowliest of the Jotun and the most hated of the Aesir.
The shower felt amazing. It had been a long time since his skin had enjoyed such comfort and care. Before this, there was the prisons (none of them offered him a chance to be truly clean, other than the odd dunking in the frigid rivers or tossing buckets of cold or very hot water at him) and before that, conflict on Earth (no time to relax there) and before that, the Other (and the empty lands which noticed not the grimy warrior, and offered no sweet comforts) and before that, the Rainbow Bridge and before that – Loki's mind refused to dwell on that golden memory. A thousand years and then some. It was a wonder that the dirt on his skin hadn't become one with his flesh. He wanted to let the waters cascade over and over, wanted to scrub his unclean skin until it peeled off his body, wanted to rub out every memory, but Paddy gently removed the sponge from his reddened fingers and suggested in his usual quiet voice that it would be best to get going.
Loki wished that his clothes had been cleaner as he pulled on his tunic and pants and coat. He had known they were dirty before, but now they seemed twice as grimy. Perhaps this place would have a washing woman or some metal machine to do the job. Or he could take a trip to a fountain and dare the cold. Or maybe not.
-0-0-0-
There were no jobs to be found in the afternoon which increased the tension of the group when they met again in the early evening.
"This ain't good," Bobby said. "They're gonna come after ya. After all of us, if we're unlucky."
"I'm splitting, no offense," Emile stuttered and left.
Loki frowned. "Can they not give you more time?"
"Time is expensive, Looney," Paddy sighed. "You'd be surprised."
"I see."
"They're here," Jacko said softly, backing away. "Already..."
Bobby slipped behind the group and moved away, closer to the windows as Niels and his men came up again.
"So ya got the money?"
"I need –"
"I need, I need, I need..." Niels complained, swinging around and then yelling in Paddy's face. "What are you? My wife? You got the damn money or no?"
"I've got a hundred today."
"Got a hundred and fifty from the steelworks," Barker was pulling his cash out already.
"You two got two fifty?" Niels said lazily, eyes glinting.
"Three fifty," Jacko said, handing over his hundred.
"Three fifty." Niels sniffed. "Not bad. Not bad." His eyes flitted over to Loki. "What about you? What've you got?"
"I do not see how my earnings are of any concern of yours," Loki lifted his chin and glared back. He glanced at Paddy, wondering if the old man would be disappointed.
Paddy just looked resigned.
"If you hang in the gang," Niels stepped up to meet Loki's eyes, toe to toe. "You have to pay the dues, I'm afraid."
"And I am afraid you are labouring under the misapprehension that I am part of this particular... group," Loki replied easily.
"What the fuck is wrong with him?" One of the guys whispered.
"Labouring under a mis – what?"
"Misapprehension." Loki repeated. "I am just a passer by and will be gone by the morrow."
"Yeah, yeah," Niels drew back a bit. "That's what I thought. You really aren't choosy, are you, Paddy. Bringing in someone – like that," he spat. "Hey, I know I'm shit droppings to some, but no one can get lower than that fucker, isn't that right, Looney? Or should I say, Loki?"
Jacko and Bobby froze at the name of Public Enemy Number Two (Doctor Doom was New York's most recent problem, which irked Loki no end). Paddy's face was blank for a moment. Loki stepped forward only to find himself faced with the business end of what he had come to recognize as a 'gun'.
"I wouldn't move if I was you."
"I'll take the three fifty, Paddy. And Loki and everything that comes with him as well. I know a few customers who'd pay a lot to spend some... private time with the man who nearly brought the Big Apple to its knees."
"Listen, Paddy –" Loki began. "I –"
"Shut the fuck up!" Niels yelled. "You can't work your mojo on me!"
"I'm sorry," Loki said, glancing swiftly at Paddy, before ducking and running for the door.
Shots rang out. Two bullets missed – one didn't, but as he expected, although it did no reflect off him as it used to, the wound had no effect on his body, which was nothing close to what he'd undergone those years in prison and his body was already dealing with the damage as he stumbled down the stairs and darted out of the building. Behind him, he could hear the rest in hot pursuit. Careening down the alleyway, darting behind boxes and bins and cans and pushing things into his pursuers' paths, Loki headed for the main street. If he planned this right, Paddy and the others would be able to get away – and he, well, best not think about that for now.
Just as he guessed, running down the middle of the large street, pursued by a gang wasn't going to go unnoticed for long. Within minutes, law men showed up on every corner and within fifteen minutes, everyone was down on the ground, handcuffed, manhandled to their feet, pushed against the cars and roughly searched for weapons. Loki came up empty. The others weren't so lucky.
Not that the officers cared. Slammed roughly again down against the car, legs spread, wrists aching as the cuffs were tighened, Loki choked back a cry of pain, pushing down a rising wave of fear and humiliation. Unnecessary, unnecessary, he reminded himself. Unnecessary emotions. Don't show them. They will use them. They will use them on you. They will use you – and you will become less than nothing. He could taste blood on his tongue. His blood. The side of his face tingled - a large scrape thanks to meeting the road a bit too roughly.
"Book'em all. Best catch this month yet," said an important looking law man, who stood around and watched the others bustle about, putting men into cars, talking to people who had witnessed the fracas – and then disappeared, bawling, "No, idiot, let the homeless guys go. Jeez, like we need more muscle in the cell than what we've got already!"
Shocked, Loki painfully twisted around, catching sight of Paddy, Barker, Jacko and Bobby being weeded out from the group and escorted beyond the line of cars and the whirling red-blue lights. I guess getting the chance to chase a well-known villain was too much to pass up, Loki thought bitterly. Well, at least my plan worked out in the end. More or less. For a moment, it seemed as if Paddy's eye caught his. The tall man gave him a nod and a sad smile before disappearing with the men.
"Wait," Loki said. Only to be slammed down again.
"Get him in the car, Silva," the important looking law man said. "The sooner we get him behind bars for tonight, the better I'll feel."
Forced down painfully, rough fingers shoving his head under the lip of the door, Loki found himself folded into the car, hands still restrained. He sat there in the dark, wincing a little as his weight settled against his abused wrists. Thought of Paddy. Bobby. Jacko. Emile. Barker. He wondered if they were cursing him as much as the law men were. Paddy's nod and the small smile. Or maybe not.
Looking out the window, Loki frowned.
Does it even matter?
Oh ho ho ho ho! Loki does something right for the first time! And for the right reasons! Has the earth stopped turning? Kyeheheheh. But sometimes doing the right thing is far from the easiest thing...
