"Y'know there's no one in ther… theer…? they-er… they are—their. Yes! Their right mind who'd pic'up hish-hikers in the middle of a-a storm, dontchu?"
And that makes four. Four times. The words would've been getting old if not for the stains of guilt and worry they brought along with them.
It's just the concussion talking. The silent pep talk didn't really make Thor feel any better. It's just the concussion. It won't last.
He wasn't sure why he even tried.
It'll get worse if he doesn't get help.
You promised to get him help.
Nails bit down on his palm as he clenched his fist and tried hailing another passing car. Loki still sat cross-legged at Thor's feet, his head resting against his upright arm—the only thing, it seemed, keeping the prince from sagging face first onto the slick pavement.
"Well," Thor said at last, his brain working overtime in order to keep the worry out of his voice, "maybe we'll get lucky."
Loki's reply bordered along the lines of an exasperated whine. "But, Thor, no one n'ther right mind—"
"Maybe we'll get a ride from someone insane, then."
"You're insane…" Loki muttered and Thor found it difficult not to roll his eyes.
In all his years, Loki had never been one to drink to excess; had never joined in when Thor and his friends tried to drink each other under the table. In fact, Thor could count on one hand the number of times he'd seen his brother truly drunk.
Thor could count on one hand the number of times he'd heard his brother's famed silver tongue fail him.
When he was young and arrogant, caring more about himself than anyone else, Thor would've laughed at such a predicament—at hearing his brother's normally so careful, so agile words trip over themselves and collide with one another. Pre-banishment Thor would've thought the whole thing a wonderful joke.
Now, as he stole another glance at Loki before fixing his gaze back on the road, he wished they both really were drunk. A beast of a hangover would await them come morning, but at least they could just sleep it off.
At least it wouldn't end in a trip to the hospital. Because you crashed your car and shook your little brother's brains around so much he can barely think!
Come on… Thor scanned the road, wishing not for the first time that he still had both his eyes. There has to be someone out there.
"Maybe," he said, his words riding out on a heavy sigh as he glanced back down at Loki, "we should try our luck further down the road."
"What diff'rence'll that make?"
All Thor could offer was a tired shrug. You're the God of Thunder, why are you so exhausted?
Weary, more like… Thor ran a hand down his face, wincing as his finger irritated the forgotten gash lining his brow. Right.
And he was so weary. Not only from his injuries and the crash itself, but from the guilt and worry that continued to pummel him like the Hulk on steroids.
Blameblameblameblame!
You just couldn't listen, could you?
Stop it!
You just had to pick up the phone, didn't you?
Didn't you?
He couldn't remember collapsing on his knees beside his brother, but now that he was down, Thor figured it was best to recenter himself and gather his strength before dragging them both to a better hitch hiking spot.
If there's even any such thing as one.
The shows on that Netflix thing Val and Loki couldn't get enough of made catching a ride look so easy. Why can't anything ever be easy?
A quick glance at his brother nearly stopped Thor's heart.
"Hey!" He knew he was shaking Loki's shoulder a bit too hard, but he couldn't stop himself. The anxiety had the reigns now and it wasn't about to let go. "Hey! This is no time to sleep!"
"Hmm…?"
"You have to stay awake," Thor urged as Loki's eyes fluttered open. "Thirty seconds, remember?"
"Thirty sec'nds…?"
"Nevermind. Just, keep your eyes open, okay?"
"Sure." In stark contrast to his words, Loki's tone bled with exhaustion.
"How's your head? Any better?" Keep him talking. Keep him awake…
"Worse," Loki groaned. "So mush worse."
Well, that's comforting.
"Do you want me to rub it?"
Loki fixed him with a look of confused horror.
"Well, remember that one time we got captured during a supply run? Before we arrived on Midgard," Thor rushed to explain. "The heat gave you a terrible headache, so I massaged your head."
His brother's expression made it clear he remembered no such thing.
"Concussion. Right." Thor blew out a sigh. "I guess not, then."
"'M not letting you mess up my hair," Loki declared, running a hand through his soaked, tangled locks. "It's s'perfect…"
Worse. Did you hear him?
It's getting worse.Remember what Bruce said?
"… Isn't it?"
"What? Oh, yes, it's very nice." Thor pulled the rest of his mind back to the present and watched another car drive by without even slowing down.
He couldn't let his thoughts wander; couldn't dwell on how differently things might've gone if… If I hadn't been so stubborn.
It was truly a struggle, keeping his focus on the freezing rain and his aching body when all he wanted to do was give into the guilt and spiral down into oblivion.
But Loki needed him. And you promised you'd get him out of here.
You promised…
So, he kept trying to hail a car, glancing at Loki every few seconds to make sure his eyes were still open. His brother seemed fixated on trying to style his drenched hair. Keyword: trying.
We're going to die here. The voice was so soft, so elusive, and it sounded so much like Loki's that Thor had to do a double-take. You know that, don't you? We're both going to die on this roadside because you are incapable of doing something as simple as stopping a car.
Thor clenched a fist, his gaze still fixed on his brother, whose lips hadn't moved once.
Brilliant, Thor. You're truly brilliant.
No… No, we're not going to die. I'm not even injured that badly. It's going to be fine—
Oh, you're not, are you? What about your arm? Your head? And what about me? Thirty seconds, remember?
No! You are not going to die. I won't let you. Not here. Not now.
Not yet…
Believe what you want. That's what you've always done best, isn't it?
And what's that supposed to mean?
But the Loki in the back of his head offered no reply.
Swallowing, Thor closed his hand over his brother's and Loki glanced up.
"What?"
What? "Nothing. Nothing… Just… Listen, Loki, you have to let me tell you how sorry I am for getting you into this."
"Thor—"
"No, please, listen! I need to… I need you to hear this…"
"Thor, stop." In an instant, Thor found himself breathing through Loki's dirt-stained hand. His brother's concussed state would've made it so easy to simply brush the hand away from his mouth, but Thor couldn't bring himself to do it. "Just stop. I can't… Agh! I can't hear this. Not now, 'kay? Not when I won't… When I won' remember. Thor, I-I hav'to… Whatever you're goin'to say, I want to-to remember."
Slowly, Thor nodded and Loki's hand fell away.
"Okay?"
Again, Thor nodded, tucking his brother's hand within his own once more. "Okay. But… Well, can I still talk? There's so many things I have to tell you."
Loki's nose crinkled as he shivered. "Thor, m'not… It's not like m'gonna die."
"Your head's getting worse," Thor pointed out. "Your pupils are still too big. You're too pale."
"And…?"
"Loki, you can't even speak properly! You sound like you're drunk and you get dizzy and disoriented whenever we stand up to move further down the road!"
"But that doesn't mean m'gonna die."
"Let's just say, you need more help than I can give you, okay? Now, I think we should—Hey! Loki, wake up! Loki…?" Maybe he was shaking his brother too hard again, but right now, that was the least of his worries.
Because Loki's eyes were closed now and they wouldn't open.
"Loki! Come on, Loki!" Five, six, seven… "Loki! Don't do this to me. Thirty seconds, remember?" Ten, eleven, twelve… "Bruce said a blackout over thirty seconds requires immediate medical attention!" Twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two… "Loki!"
Nothing. Oh, how many times had those eyes closed and not reopened? How many times do I have to go through this?
Twenty-five, twenty-six, twenty-seven…
"Loki, wake up! Look! I'm messing up your perfect hair!" Twenty-nine… "Loki?"
Don't be a fool, Thor, I'm not going to die…
No, Thor thought as resolve flooded his veins. You're not.
Dim headlights danced along the edge of his vision.
I won't let you.
Two long strides was all it took to get him into the middle of the street, where he planted his feet like the thick roots of a tree. Heart pumping, eyes blazing.
And for one, thrilling second, Thor didn't think the vehicle would move out of the way fast enough. Then, the car swerved—an awful screeching sound that grated against his skin and dredged up unwanted memories.
"Hey! What's your problem, man? Are you insane?"
But Thor was in no mood to suffer foolish mortals. He gripped the door so hard, the driver couldn't even roll his window back up.
"I need to use your phone."
"What the—? I'm not letting you use my phone! I-I don't even have it with me, bro. Back off!"
"That wasn't a question," Thor growled, leaning further into the car. "Every one of you humans can't leave your homes without those stupid little talking boxes. Now, hand it over."
"I'm not just handing my phone off to some lunatic who stands in the middle of the road during a storm! I mean, who do you even think you are?"
For a moment—just a moment—Thor saw red. His hand shot out, fingers wrapping around the driver's shirt collar.
"I am Thor," he ground out, jerking his victim closer until their noses nearly collided. "King of Asgard. God of Thunder. And you will pick up your phone. You will dial 911. And you will do it now."