After they ate, Strange suggested they take a walk.
Which was funny, when Loki thought about it, because of all the places he'd been with Strange by now, he'd never thought to explore their immediate surroundings, let alone explore them with Strange. So he said yes, cast a spell on himself so that he'd appear forgettable, and followed Strange outside.
The sun was just beginning to dip behind buildings, casting long shadows on the streets of Greenwich Village. Strange had dispensed with his robes and was wearing jeans and a Columbia University sweatshirt. Loki stuck with a suit for his glamor, even though no one would remember him. Shame, really. He looked good in a suit.
As they set off, Loki asked, "So, how did you come to learn magic? You said I could hear the whole story if I wanted to." He looked at the sky, rather than at Strange, because this type of directness bothered him. Strange seemed to respond to directness, though.
"Oh yeah, right." Strange ran a hand through his hair. "I guess I should go back to the beginning, huh?"
"Your accident would be fine," Loki said, adding innocently, "unless you feel your childhood's relevant to this story."
With a sardonic smile, Strange said, "Yeah, yeah. And people used to tell me I was a stickler for precision." Loki's expression got more mischievous and Strange chuckled, then sobered. "So…car accident. It was bad. Horrible nerve damage. Irreversible, it turned out. Eleven hours on the operating table, steel pins in the bones, et cetera. And after all that—" He held up a hand, demonstrating the tremor. "I didn't deal with it very well. Tried every experimental treatment I could find, had six more operations, used up all my money…" Regret passed over his face. "Pushed everyone away, obviously. And then I had nothing left, so I went to Kathmandu, looking for a place called Kamar-Taj." They reached the end of the block and Strange turned right.
Loki knew the name well enough by now. "Clearly you found it."
"Yeah. Well, it found me." Strange stepped aside to let a child on a bicycle ride by, then continued, "Mordo saved me from a bunch of thugs and brought me to Kamar-Taj, where I promptly made an ass of myself and got kicked out."
Mordo. No wonder Strange was so intent on finding him. They had history. Loki didn't want to comment on it now, though. Smiling with a tinge of sharpness, Loki said, "Surely not. You, making an arse of yourself? I can't imagine someone of your esteemed nature doing any such thing."
Strange rolled his eyes good-naturedly. "Smartass. Anyway, in the end, The Ancient One agreed to teach me. I decided to use my powers for, you know, the good of the multiverse, instead of healing myself. And here I am."
With a pointed look towards Strange's hands, Loki said, "Do you ever regret your decision? You could have been a surgeon again. Instead, you're—" He waved a hand vaguely, not entirely sure how he wanted to finish that sentence. Fighting a war we don't seem to be winning seemed like the best option, but not quite right for the mood.
Shrugging, Strange said, "I wouldn't be human if I didn't have regrets once in awhile." He paused, then glanced at Loki. "Though I guess that's not really a trait that's unique to humans." Loki snorted but didn't respond. They passed a bar where people were spilling out the door, drinking on the tiny outdoor patio. Pointing with a thumb towards it, Strange asked, "Want to go in and get a drink?"
Loki shook his head. Far too many people. It reminded him of an Asgardian mead hall, and he wanted to be able to hold a conversation with Strange. "Let's keep walking."
Strange waited until they crossed the street, and then he said, picking up the thread of the conversation again, "I don't regret it, no. I had to figure out what was important, though. And that when you have the chance to help people, sacrifice is worth it."
Sort of an alien concept, Loki had to admit. Personal sacrifice had never seemed a fair trade-off for him. His stomach twisted and he pushed the thought away. "I imagine you don't get invited to many galas celebrating your achievements anymore," Loki said, knowing he was lashing out because of his own hurt, but still unable to stop himself from doing it.
Strange glanced at him, unfazed by Loki's words. Nothing new there. He couldn't remember ever managing to annoy Strange. "No, but sometimes I get asked to say a few words at the Kamar-Taj holiday party." When Loki snorted with surprised laughter, Strange smiled in satisfaction. Then, sobering, he said, "Funny you should say that, actually. I was going to a speaking engagement when I had the accident." He looked at his hands, then put them in his pockets. "You know what I think about sometimes? I asked Christine to come with me that night."
"Doctor Palmer?"
"Yeah, sorry." Strange's brow furrowed. "I'd like to think I wouldn't have driven the way I did if she'd been with me, but…" He shook his head. "It wasn't like I ever listened to her when we were dating. I told her she should've had that engraved on this watch. 'You're going to get yourself killed.'" He pulled a hand out of his pocket and held it up so Loki could see the watch he was talking about, which Loki had noticed and wondered about. The face was shattered and it obviously no longer worked. "She turned out to be right, though definitely not in the way she thought."
This conversation was creating more questions. Suddenly, Loki realized that he wanted to know so much more about Strange than he did, and the feeling was startling. He'd had friendsover the past few years, but this felt…different. "What does the watch say?" he asked, which seemed like the best way to get more than one question answered at once.
Shakily, Strange undid it as they walked, then held it out for Loki to see. Time will tell how much I love you, Christine.
Raising an eyebrow, Loki said, "The two of you are involved, then?"
"Used to be," Strange said, putting the watch back on.
"But you still wear a token of her affection."
Strange's eyes flicked to Loki's and Loki, out of habit more than any conscious decision, veiled his thoughts behind a pleasant, impossible-to-read smile. "It's more like a reminder," Strange said slowly, considering his words. "Of the way I was, and…the capacity for change, I guess. And to value the people who stick with you, even when you push them away." He shrugged, then glanced at Loki again and said, "Christine was there for me when I didn't deserve her. But we're just good friends."
There was something in his tone that made Loki feel like he was being reassured about this point, but he didn't examine it too closely. He didn't need to be reassured about Strange's romantic status—what, did Strange think he was going to be jealous? Concerned, perhaps, if he were to suddenly show a greater desire to take the night off for a date instead of heading to some far-flung corner of the globe to risk his life. The man was clearly a workaholic, not that it seemed to bother him.
By this time, they'd reached Washington Square Park. The leaves on the trees were still mostly green, but a few of them were beginning to be tinged with yellow. Autumn was on its way, then, though Loki wasn't actually sure what day it was, or even what month. August? September? It hadn't mattered before, when Thor and he were fighting off monsters. It still didn't matter, he supposed, but now that he wasn't sleeping in abandoned warehouses, it felt like the sort of thing he should know.
When they reached the park's central plaza, Strange sat down on a bench, and Loki followed suit. There was more he wanted to ask—what had Strange meant, for instance, when he'd said Christine had been right that he was going to get himself killed?
"Anyway," Strange said, "enough about me." Leaning back on the bench and cocking his head at Loki, he said, "What about you? Someone must have taught you how to use your magic."
Loki smiled, though it hurt. "My mother." Just in case it wasn't obvious, he added, "She's dead."
With a grimace, Strange said, "I shouldn't have asked."
"No," Loki said. "It's fine." It wasn't fine, but this was the sort of lie that everyone told. He didn't hold it against Strange for asking. Fiddling with his sleeve, he said, "My mother was…I don't even know where to begin." She meant everything to me, was what he was thinking, but saying it out loud felt mawkish. "She was the only person who never made me feel as though I didn't belong."
And that wasn't mawkish? Loki blew a puff of air out of the side of his mouth and gave Strange a sidelong look, expecting to see—well, he wasn't sure exactly what. A modicum of amusement at his expense, at the very least. But Strange was just watching him, so Loki crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back as well. "On Asgard," he said, "magic wasn't considered acceptable for a warrior. Neither was intelligence, for that matter," he added, rolling his eyes. "But when I was a child, and it was clear I didn't have Thor's gifts, my mother saw that I did have a gift for sorcery. She taught me. I've always assumed Odin didn't want her to."
Letting his eyes drift to the opposite side of the park, where a massive triumphal arch led back to the street, Loki said, "She's the person in my life who I didn't deserve."
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Strange lean forward. Hesitantly, he reached a trembling hand out and touched Loki's leg lightly. "I'm sorry you lost her," he said.
Loki looked at him and smiled joylessly. "I lose everyone."
Strange opened his mouth, then closed it, a considering look in his eyes. Finally, he said, "Well. Not to be presumptuous about the depth of this relationship, but—not me." Loki's eyebrows shot up and Strange cleared his throat, glancing away, and then he added, "For whatever that's worth."
All Loki could do was stare at the side of Strange's face. Strange's gaze was studiously focused on the other side of the park, where a yoga class was gate posing. Gods, never mind too much time on Earth, he'd spent too much time in New York, to know that. After several more seconds passed, Loki said, "Not yet."
When Strange looked back to him, his brow was furrowed. "We'll have to work on that," he finally said.
With a snort, Loki asked, "Work on what?"
"Your trust issues. You know, just minor ones."
Loki laughed softly. "You wouldn't be the first to try. It's quite alright, Stephen." A smile flashed over Strange's face at this, and Loki felt something ease in his chest that he hadn't realized had tightened. "They go back too far. I rather think they're too ingrained at this point." Cryptic. Whatever had happened between them today, Loki found himself with the urge to be less cryptic, less bottled-up and tight-lipped. "I'm not sure if you're aware, but I'm adopted."
Strange raised his eyebrows in surprise, but said, "I thought I'd heard something like that." Clearly not in surprise at the fact itself, then. Perhaps just that Loki had volunteered the information.
Nodding, Loki said, "I'm not Asgardian by blood. I was abandoned as a baby on one of the other Realms. Jotunheim. Left to die by my biological father." His eyes narrowed. "I was taken in by Odin and raised to take the throne of Jotunheim. A friendly Frost Giant, who wouldn't make trouble for Asgard because I would see it as more of a home than Jotunheim itself." He spat this last part, hating the fact that even though it had never come to pass, it would have worked, had Odin ever come up with a way to break this world-shattering news to him.
Strange remained silent after this. A squirrel scampered towards them, watched them hopefully to see if they'd drop any food on the ground, then ran off again. "That part, I didn't know," Strange said.
Loki let out an exhale of bitter laughter. "No, I wouldn't think so. Whatever Thor told the Avengers about my history, I've always doubted it was all that detailed. I don't think he understood the political maneuvering behind my adoption. To him it was simply a good deed by our father." He'd imagined the conversation between Thor and Odin many times over the years, how Odin would have glossed over the calculation involved in saving the infant Loki and framed it as an act of mercy. Of love. How Thor would have unquestioningly accepted this. At first it had enraged him, that Thor could be so stupid and blind, but now it just made him sad. His brother saw the good in people first. He'd always seen the good in Loki, or at least professed to. Loki had never quite believed that what he was seeing wasn't illusion.
The anger drained out of him and he let his gaze drift over the park, watching families stroll by, couples, people with dogs, people with phones, all of them going about their lives as though they didn't have to worry about an interdimensional soft spot opening up in front of them at any moment and their world being invaded by monsters. That was the beauty of the human condition, he supposed. They lived their lives even when everything was falling apart around them.
Sighing, he said, "There was a time that I schemed to keep Thor off the throne of Asgard because I thought he'd lead us to ruin." To this day, he couldn't decide if he'd been right or just a fool. It was hard not to suspect the latter. His gaze unfocused as he looked over the arch, out over the city and the buildings reflecting the sunset. "It's a great irony that Thor would make a better king of Asgard than our father ever did." He dug his fingernails into his palm. Tenses. He was mixing tenses. "If there was an Asgard left to rule."
An ambulance went by on the street, sirens wailing, and Strange's eyes followed it before he turned back to Loki. "I had a bullshit relationship with my dad, too," he finally said, a note of resigned amusement in his tone that indicated he knew what a feeble way it was to describe the Asgardian royal family's issues.
Loki laughed softly, but genuinely. "I'd guessed that, actually."
"There wasn't quite as much riding on it for me and my dad, though." Strange rubbed at his beard with his thumb, looking, rightly, like he had no idea what to say to all this. Well, he was sitting next to an alien prince who'd once tried to take over this planet, and said alien prince had just opened up to him in a way that he hadn't ever with anyone, except perhaps his immediate family. Not that Strange knew that last part, though Loki thought it should probably be obvious. "Sounds hard," Strange said. "Sounds really hard, actually. Especially since you had to do it for…how old are you?"
"One thousand and fifty-two, give or take. I'm not sure how to account for the time traveling." A thin smile tugged at Loki's mouth. "Does this mean you sympathize with me for my attempted conquering of Earth?"
Why did he do this? Why did he take a moment that was meaningful, that was him connecting with another person on a level that he rarely did, and try to sour it?
Well, he knew why he did it. Maybe the question was, how could he stop doing it?
Strange snorted. "Not really, sorry. But it makes a little more sense." And Strange surprised Loki then by not withdrawing, by not slamming down the barrier that Loki had been sure was coming. Someone whose duty it was to protect the Earth really shouldn't have been getting close to the likes of Loki, God of Lies. But Strange's demeanor didn't change. There was no shift away, no sudden standoffishness. He remained exactly as he was, leaning back against the bench, relaxed, his hand still on his chin.
They were sitting, Loki realized, close enough that he could feel Strange's body heat.
Then, Strange exhaled slowly. "I understand regrets, though. I guess. You're a god. Your regrets are probably going to be a lot bigger than most people's."
"Who says I regret anything?" Loki said, knowing he sounded surly.
At this, Strange chuckled. "You should give people more credit. Just because you don't spell it out doesn't mean it isn't obvious."
Loki ran his thumbnail over his fingertips, watching Strange. Then, he snorted softly and said, "I really don't understand you."
"You've said that."
"I know. Normally I hate to repeat myself, but I thought this bore saying again." He paused, then added, "Though, I grew up with Thor, so I had to repeat myself a lot, to be honest."
Strange shook his head, but he was smiling.
One of these times, Stephen was going to want to talk to Loki about his brother. Thor's face flickered through his mind, a howl of pain contorting it, and it felt like something was clawing its way out of his chest.
He put a hand to the bench and tightened his fingers around the edge of it, looking at the ground. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Strange shift closer to him, then away, as though he knew better than to push when Loki was caught up in memories and demons.
Then, Loki looked up, flashing Strange a smile. False? Of course. He was good at that. "Anyway. All in the past now, I suppose."
"Yeah," Strange said. His brow furrowed and he clearly he wanted to say something else. He didn't, though. He didn't push and Loki was immeasurably grateful for that. Instead, he put both of his hands on his legs and allowed silence to lapse between them.
Loki fidgeted with his own fingers before Strange's hands, with their surgically straight scars, drew his gaze. Strange never looked at the scars, he'd noticed. Was it because he wanted to forget them, or because they didn't matter to him? An urge came over him to run one of his own undamaged fingers along the length of one of them, from wrist to fingertip, and it was so powerful that he actually closed both his hands into fists to keep from doing it.
They were nice hands, scars or no.
That thought brought him up short and he blinked, then flicked his eyes away. Up, actually, so that they met Strange's. He still wasn't sure what color they were. And it was very hard, suddenly, to look away from them.
Then Strange's eyes shifted to a point behind Loki and his eyebrows drew together. He shot to his feet and hissed something under his breath. Loki stood too, turning so he could see what Strange was looking at. There was a figure in a brown robe hurrying in the opposite direction, out of the park.
Strange swore and started after the figure, almost running straight into a jogger. As he reeled back, Loki caught him and steadied him with a hand on his back. The figure was nearly out of the park by then and Strange took off after him, Loki right on his heels. "It's Mordo," Strange said. Unnecessary. Loki had figured that no one else would elicit this reaction from him.
Raising a hand, fingers glowing green, Loki asked, "Should I stop him?"
"No," Strange said sharply.
They reached the street. The robed figured was on the other side already. Cars were speeding by and Strange made a series of motions with his hands. The space around them fractaled into planes, and Strange swung an arm so that the road to either side of them, and the cars coming towards them, went straight up into the air at a ninety degree angle.
On the other side of the street, Strange circled his arm again and the fractals fell away as if they'd never been there, matter folding back to the way it had been. Loki had already read about the mirror dimension in the Sanctum's books, but the reality was something else entirely.
"Mordo!" Strange yelled.
The figure paused, turned to look over his shoulder, then took one step to the side and disappeared into thin air. After another second, Strange and Loki reached the spot the figure had vanished. Loki sent out a spell, probing the area. "He must have crossed over into another dimension," Loki said. "But there's no soft spot here. I've never seen anyone do that." Well, except him, with the Tesseract, but he was quite sure Strange's friend Mordo didn't have one of those.
"Damn!" Strange ran a hand through his hair and glared at the spot Mordo had disappeared into. Loki put his hands on his hips and watched Strange, until he said, "I have to go to Kamar-Taj and tell Wong." Looking at Loki, he said, "The Sanctum will let you back in."
Loki's eyebrows shot up and he nearly asked, It will?
But before he'd decided if he wanted to, Strange opened a portal and stepped through it, saying as it closed, "Sorry to cut our walk short."
Loki stuck his hands in his pockets and sniffed, an eyebrow quirked, as orange sparks flared across the sidewalk. People walked by as he stood there watching, none of them giving him a second glance. Then, with a shrug, he headed back to the Sanctum. Which would apparently let him in. Interesting.
The Sanctum seemed quieter than normal and Loki found himself stalking from floor to floor, prowling amidst the cases of the Chamber of Relics, not sure what he was looking for but knowing he wasn't going to find it. The feeling wasn't unfamiliar.
Finally, when it was long dark outside and hours had passed, he stopped his pacing and decided to go to bed. Had he been waiting for Strange's return? Pathetic. On his way back to the stairs, he glanced into the chamber that contained the doors leading to the other Sanctums. All was quiet.
He had just reached the stairs when he heard a door open, and then, suddenly, Strange was at his side, appearing out of thin air. Loki had learned weeks ago not to jump when Strange teleported, so he just straightened up and met Strange's eyes.
"We don't know where he went," Strange said.
Loki wrinkled his nose. "I'm sorry. If he's lurking around here though, it's only a matter of time until you corner him."
Strange's gaze was distant as he said, "Yeah. That's what I'm worried about." There didn't seem to be anything more to say on the subject, so Loki turned to go down the stairs to the second floor.
"Loki," Strange said, wrapping his fingers around Loki's shoulder. Loki faced him again and raised an eyebrow. Strange pulled his hand away, then stuck both his hands in his pockets, glancing at the ground. There was a small, sheepish smile on his face. "Sorry."
"What in the Nine are you sorry for?" Loki asked. "Leaving? It takes more than that to offend me." Not necessarily. But true, in this case. "We're associates, Stephen. Not lovers. I don't begrudge you looking for your friend."
An idiotic urge to add, And even if we were lovers, I still wouldn't begrudge you that came over him. He resisted.
"Associates," Strange repeated, chuckling.
With a shrug, Loki looked away and said, "Whatever you'd like to call it."
'Associates' didn't come close to describing what this was, Strange was right about that. Loki wasn't sure if he had the words for it at all. Strange removed a hand from his pocket and waved it. "I appreciate it, but that's not what I was talking about." He hesitated. "I'm sorry if things got too personal earlier."
This wasn't what Loki had expected. People rarely apologized to him for crossing his boundaries. And to be perfectly honest, half the time Loki didn't know what his own boundaries were, so he really shouldn't blame them, even though he usually did. "Oh."
He wasn't sure what else to say. Yes, they very much had been too personal, but somehow, it hadn't bothered him as much as it should have. "No apology necessary, Strange. Believe me, I have no problem letting people know when they've overstepped the bounds of what's appropriate for our level of familiarity."
That made Strange smile. "Yeah, I guess you don't." But he still looked like he wanted to say something, so Loki remained where he was, eyebrow arched. "I think I just…look, earlier, when you…your magic demonstration."
"You're normally far more articulate than this," Loki said to hide the fact that this had taken him off-guard—and that he wasn't at all sure he wanted to have a conversation about it.
Strange chuckled. "You definitely don't let anyone's ego get too inflated, do you?"
"Well, I try my best not to." Loki gave him a small smile, which would have to be invitation enough to go on.
"Anyway." Strange couldn't quite seem to meet Loki's eyes. "I'm sure this will just sound ridiculous to you, it's your magic, you've probably experienced something like that before. But I feel like I…know you. Better, I mean, than I did before. Obviously I don't know you know you—wait, it sounds like I mean that in a biblical sense, which I also obviously don't know you in—"
Loki had to press his lips together to prevent himself from grinning, if not laughing. Without thinking, he put a hand to Strange's shoulder and repeated, "Strange. No apology necessary." What he wasn't going to do was admit that no, he'd never felt anything like that either. Let the wizard think feeling such a deep, visceral connection with another person was something Asgardian sorcerers were old hat at. Loki may have shown more of his cards than he was accustomed to doing, but he wasn't going to show all of them.
There was still a sheepish smile on Strange's face, but he said, "Guess I'll stop apologizing, then."
Another door closed elsewhere in the Sanctum. Wong. Taking a step back, so that he was balanced right at the edge of the stairs, Loki said, "Thank you, though. I appreciate the gesture."
The two of them looked at each other, and then Strange said, "We have to go to Minneapolis tomorrow morning. Some of our protections are getting shaky there."
"I wouldn't miss it," Loki said, smiling with a sarcastic crookedness.
Strange nodded. The smile he offered in return had its own bite in it. "Good-night, Loki," he said, then teleported away, leaving Loki standing on the stairs alone.
For another moment, he didn't move. Then, he turned and went to his room to go to bed.
