Chapter 8 – Confessions

DISCLAIMER: We do not own Marvel... unfortunately... xD

Author's Note: In which Loki and Steve have some bonding time. :P

~ Amina Gila

Loki screams, thrashing against the hands holding him in place while the whip cuts into his back, blood flowing freely. He'd held back the pain as long as he could, refusing to make a sound and holding himself with pride even as he was whipped. On the twentieth or so lash, he was no longer able to stop himself from crying out. His escape attempt was foolhardy, and he should have waited. He should have been patient.

But he wasn't. Ebony Maw caught him before he could even find the exit to the prison level, and now, here is he, being punished in front of all and sundry aboard the Sanctuary. A large hand grabs his chin, forcing his head up to meet the Titan's cold gaze. "Your rebellion will get you nowhere, little King," Thanos warns. "It will be good that you remember that for the future." Loki spits in his face, smirking even as he's backhanded hard enough to draw blood.

"Ten more lashes," orders the Titan. Loki cries out again as the whip digs into the mess of flesh and raw muscle on his back, each stroke sending waves of agony burning through him.

Loki jerks awake with a muffled gasp, heart racing as his eyes dart frantically around the room, trying to recall where he is. He relaxes slightly when he sees Thor laying sprawled on the bed next to him. The torture, the mind control, the invasion of Midgard, his subsequent fight to close the portal… It was real. It was real, and he's safe here in Stark's Tower, though he doesn't know for how long.

The sound of Thor's even breathing next to him helps him calm himself enough to unclench his hands which are twisted in the sheets. He tilts his head to look at the clock on the dresser, the red numbers reading 5:39. That's good. It's been almost two hours since he last awoke from the nightmare which brought Thor into his room from the couch. He doubts the silencing spell had failed, so he assumes that JARVIS must have called in his brother when he spiraled into a panic attack.

He doesn't think he'll be able to sleep anymore, so he carefully slides himself out of the bed, leaving Thor to sleep. He needs a moment to recollect himself and finds himself wandering from the bedroom into the rest of the suite. It's been five days since he first arrived, and he left the apartment for the first-time last night when Stark demanded that they eat supper together.

Loki had only been able to conclude that Midgardians have strange food choices and had said as much to Stark and his Lady Pepper Potts. They had both found the comment amusing, and he's glad they weren't offended. He hadn't even considered the possibility that they might be until after the words had escaped him. It was a thoughtless, passing statement. The evening itself had been pleasant enough, and Loki finds that he almost wants it to happen again.

He stands in the silence for a long minute before silently slipping from the suite and heading to the elevator to go to what Stark referred to as the common room. A change of scenery might be in order while he tries to find a semblance of calm in the wake of his nightmare. He wants to go somewhere alone just for a short while. Thor means well, but Loki doesn't think he could tolerate his brother's smothering affection or concern at the moment.

The common room is quiet and dark, and Loki finds it soothing, picking his way through the furniture to the large, glass window over the city. He stands there, staring out into the darkness which the coming son is chasing away. It's oddly peaceful, and he remains in place, hands clasped behind his back, as the sky blossoms with brilliant pinks and oranges. Midgard has beautiful sunrises, and Loki can't help but wonder why they choose to build such populated cities which ruin the beauty of their realm.

He's still standing there when the elevator dings, and Steve Rogers hesitantly enters the area. After the battle, Stark had offered Rogers a place to stay at his Tower, and the latter had agreed, through whether it was because he wanted to or because he felt he needed to keep an eye on the two Asgardians, Loki isn't sure.

"JARVIS said you were here," Rogers says quietly, tentatively moving closer. "I thought I'd come up in case you wanted the company."

Loki shrugs noncommittally, keeping his eyes fixed out the widow at the city. He doubts Thor will be waking anytime soon. For one, he dislikes being up at the crack of dawn. For two, they were up for at least an hour in the middle of the night when Loki spiraled into the worst panic attack he's had since coming here. The memory of it burns him with shame, so he dismisses it from mind. It won't do to linger on it.

"Couldn't sleep?" Rogers questions, leaning against the wall and looking out at the city as well.

Loki heaves a sigh. "No," he admits, "I cannot keep the memories at bay, and they overwhelm me." He doesn't know why he's confessing something so personal, and he clenches his fists, digging his fingernails into his palms.

"I understand," murmurs Rogers softly, and he does. Loki can hear it in his words. "I – I had to crash a plane in the Arctic to prevent it from unleashing weapons of mass destruction." Loki tilts his head just enough to look at him while he speaks. This desire to confess things to another is rather unfamiliar to him; it seems to be shared solely by the mortals. "I froze there… for seventy years. Sometimes," he pauses, licking his lips, "Sometimes, I wish they hadn't found me."

Loki turns fully to regard him with curiosity. "Why?"

Something pained flashes across his face. "Weeks before I crashed, I lost my closest friend. The world has moved on without me. I don't have a place anymore. Everyone I know is gone."

He hasn't dealt with the pain and grief yet. Loki can see as much. It must be hard for him to be thrust into another world like that without any idea how to fit in. Loki can relate to an extent. He's never fit in among the Asgardians, and none have taken time to try and better understand him, except his mother… and now, Thor.

"I fear I can offer you little consolation, Captain," Loki murmurs at last. "I can neither bring back the dead, nor turn back the clock." If he could, there would be much he would do, though he cannot say if he would choose to not fall into the Void. Certainly, his time with Thanos is not an experience he'd ever want to repeat, but at the same time, it allowed him to finally escape Asgard where he was slowly suffocating and drowning in Thor's shadow.

Rogers smiles slightly, and after a moment, he straightens. "Well, seeing as I'm here and you're here, would you like to have breakfast with me? I can make pancakes. We can find Thor and whoever else wants to come."

Loki thinks back to the communal meal with Stark and Lady Potts last night, before slowly nodding. Rogers motions to him, and they walk to the kitchen. "JARVIS, tell Thor to come here when he awakens," instructs Loki, as he hesitantly joins in to help Rogers with his preparations. They fall into a rhythm, and despite the silence, Loki finds the situation far more comfortable than he'd initially expected.

"You can talk to me anytime, you know, about anything you want," offers Rogers quietly.

Loki turns his head to look at him, wondering at the offer. "I find it hard to believe that discussing my problems would make them better," he remarks, shaking his head.

"Yes, I suppose I see why you might think that." Rogers huffs out a breath that's not quite a laugh, but close enough. "It does seem rather counterintuitive at times, but it's worked for me."

"I was adopted. I'm not Asgardian," Loki blurts out a few minutes later.

Rogers doesn't seem startled by the comment, simply nodding. "So, where are you from then?"

"Jotunheim," Loki tells him, eyes gazing unseeingly at the wall. "They're a race of monsters… and I'm one of them." He looks down at his left hand which had shifted to blue during the attack on the realm. He can't see the lines and markings now, but they're still there, just below the surface.

"Monsters?" Rogers seems surprised by the use of the word. "Why do you call them that?" There's nothing judgmental in his tone, just a hint of honest curiosity.

Loki doubts that the Captain would ever agree, that he could ever be made to see why Jotuns are monsters, but the bitter hatred Loki harbors for his heritage surges forth before he can stop himself. "They're horrible, evil, disgusting creatures who think of naught but destruction. They have long been enemies of Asgard and would be more than happy to destroy every one of us – them."

"Mr. Odinson is on his way to the kitchen," JARVIS interrupts smoothly.

"Thanks," Rogers replies, flicking his eyes towards the ceiling for a moment. "Ask the others if they would like to join us as well."

"Will do, Captain Rogers," the AI answers.

Loki watches as Rogers flips a pancake onto a plate, and he lets a tendril of seidr touch the growing stack, keeping them hot until they're ready to be eaten. "I find it hard to believe that every member of a species is a horrible, degenerate monster," he comments, blue eyes serious, if a bit troubled, when he turns to give Loki his full attention.

"I have seen them, fought them, Captain. You do not know them as I do." Loki's words a bit harsher than he'd intended, but he doesn't back down. He can feel the same horror and denial which he'd first felt upon learning the truth nipping at him again.

At that moment, Thor saunters into the room, and raises an eyebrow in surprise at the sight. "I did not expect to see you here, brother," he comments, giving Loki a smile. "Nightmares?"

Loki clenches his jaw and nods, unwilling to let his mind drift back to the memories which had plagued him throughout the night.

"Loki was telling me about Jotunheim," Rogers says, giving Thor a speculative look. Loki notices how his brother instantly stiffens, casting him a worried glance. "How long have you known about Loki's heritage?"

"Last year. Loki learned only by accident," Thor explains.

"Your parents never told you?" Rogers demands incredulously, "And they allowed you to be taught that all Jotuns are monsters?"

"They never advocated that mentality, but they didn't decry it either," Thor tells him before Loki has a chance to open his mouth. "Asgard might view them as monsters, but they are not. An entire race does not deserve to be destroyed for the actions of a few."

Loki whirls towards him, rage swelling up and overtaking reason. "You say that now, but where were those thoughts when you attacked Jotunheim, when you slaughtered Jotuns because it was fun, because they insulted you?!" He stalks towards his brother, poking his chest. "Just because you suddenly had a change of heart, that doesn't make Jotuns any less monstrous. You –"

"Brother," Thor interrupts placing a hand on Loki's shoulder, "I was wrong about them. They cannot all be monsters because you aren't." He moves his hand to clasp Loki's neck, expression incredibly soft. "You're one of the strongest and best people I know."

Loki is effectively rendered speechless by Thor's words. It's ironic that his silver-tongue is failing him now. He wants to scream that his brother is wrong, that the Jotuns will always be monsters, that one day his blood will turn him into a monster to be slaughtered as well, but he doesn't even know where to begin.

"Thor's right, Loki," Rogers tells him quietly. "It's not fair to judge an entire race based on the actions of a few. I imagine that if you were to go to Jotunheim, you would find that they have the same stories about Asgard that your people have about them."

Loki shifts, turning enough so that he can look at the Captain. Rogers offers him a small smile. "And breakfast is ready. I'll bring it to the table."

Thor pulls Loki to the dining room, and he lets himself be led there, unable to process or make sense of everyone's words. They're wrong. He knows they're wrong. His true skin is as revolting as it's always been portrayed, and it'll never go away, even if he wishes it.

"JARVIS said something about pancakes?" questions Stark as he enters the room with Lady Potts. "And ones made by our resident Capsicle and Lokester. I'm in!" Loki can't help the half-smile at the man's words. It might be a front more often than not, but Stark's constant jokes – especially if they're not aimed at him – do amuse him.

"Careful," Rogers calls from the kitchen. "You wouldn't want to find your food burned, would you, Stark?"

"You love me too much to poison me," refutes Stark, dropping into a chair. "I want a drink; it's never too early to have alcohol."

Lady Potts rolls her eyes at that. "You aren't having it with breakfast," she declares firmly.

Loki finds himself drifting into a peaceful calm as he listens to them bicker, Thor sitting next to him. He could get used to feeling as though he wants, as though he's wanted, and not a stranger intruding on someone else's life. He hopes that communal meals become more frequent; maybe he'll have to initiate it sometime, though he's not certain if he's ready to take the lead like that yet. No, not now. Not yet. But maybe soon, once he's able to fully relax and call these mortals friends. He would like that.