You've Got Sucker's Luck
Chapter 35
Loki dragged his eyes open and regretted the decision immediately.
"What," he croaked to the tiled ceiling, "was that infernal thing?"
"Didn't I tell you? I upgraded my shotgun."
Brynn!
He gasped and flew forward, but the surge of adrenaline sparked from hearing her voice was short lived. Unconsciousness beckoned and he weakly slumped back, struggling to get his bearings.
A familiar antiseptic scent hung in the air, one he recognized from accompanying Brynn to the medical wing for her many EEGs. Now, however, their positions were presumably reversed and he was the patient rather than serving in his usual role of moral support.
He found he much preferred the latter.
How long had he been unconscious?
Loki squinted, impatiently waiting for his vision to clear. Slowly, the Brynn-shaped blur came into focus. She had been curled up in a chair at his bedside, but moved to sit ramrod straight as she cautiously studied his face.
He remained very still, fervently hoping she could read the pleading in his eyes. Could she see that the monster was gone?
"Hi," she murmured finally.
"Hi," he whispered back.
The inelegance of his reply was enough to assure her that his mind was once more his own. She sucked in a quick breath, followed by another, then she was diving towards him and in the next moment Loki held her wrapped tightly in his arms.
"I'm sorry," he told her hoarsely, voice thick from holding back tears. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry – I swear to you, I fought it as hard as I could –"
"I know," Brynn choked out. She tucked her face into the curve of his neck and breathed deep, then released a trembling exhale. "I know. I know none of it was you. Just promise me to never call me 'pet' again."
He cringed and pressed his lips to her hair.
"Never," he vowed.
Reassured, she settled against him on top of the blankets and nestled close.
Tranquil silence fell, save for the quiet hum of activity outside. They were content to hold onto each other for a while, and as the minutes passed, Loki felt the knot in his chest finally start to ease.
Brynn was safe. They both were safe.
He was on the verge of dozing off when he noticed his shoulder had become suspiciously damp.
"Darling?"
She sniffled, tightening her arms around him.
"I was so scared…" Her voice was thin and reedy, her words grew strangled as she falteringly continued, "I was so scared — that you were going to die. And I had to pretend I wasn't."
Loki brought his other arm around her and tucked her head under his chin, speechless. Thor had a vested interest in keeping him alive, but the grief Brynn had been facing was exponentially higher.
His vision blurred again, picturing such an outcome.
She wouldn't have even had the luxury of ignorance.
The words Laufeyson, Loki caught his attention as he went to dry his eyes. He was wearing a hospital bracelet, of all things — his name being the only useful piece of identifying information, he noted. UNKNOWNand hashtags comprised the remainder of the text, aside from his birthdate, which was truncated.
Thor must have filled out the forms, he noted absently.
"I'll let you in on a secret," he said finally.
Brynn gracelessly wiped her nose on the front of his shirt and peered up at him.
"What?"
"I've already died twice," he answered, smiling down at her tear-stained face. "I'm like a bad habit. I always come back."
She dubiously chewed the inside of her lip, trying to determine whether she wanted to know if was telling the truth or merely placating her with empty reassurances. She finally decided she did not wish to pursue this line of inquiry any further, and asked a different question altogether:
"How much do you remember?"
Loki looked back at his bracelet, avoiding her eyes. The edges were starting to shred, evidence that Brynn had been playing with it while she was waiting for him to wake up – which meant she had not spent the entirety of his recovery curled up in a chair, out of arm's reach.
The thought warmed him, and he was able to muster the courage to answer her.
"Everything," he ventured, eyes drifting to her mouth. "Up until…"
He remembered those precious, fleeting seconds when he had returned back to himself. His only thought had been her, and the wonderment that she had bravely taken that last final step – absolved herself of the guilt that she had fallen in love again and was ready to give her heart to another.
But churning in the back of his mind was his old friend, self-doubt. Had she crossed the threshold of her own volition? Or was her kiss nothing more than a desperate attempt to try and save him – an act of love, tainted by an infinity stone?
Would the scepter strip him of every moment of joy?
"Do you want me to fill you in?" Brynn asked, interrupting his train of thought. She had shifted away to sit up and was watching him anxiously.
Loki swallowed hard and tried to unstick his tongue. Suddenly he was parched.
"Could I have some water first?"
Brynn drew back and made a long reach for the bedside table. A tall plastic jug labeled Gatorade had been set out, along with several bottles of water.
"Bottom's up," she teased, seeing Loki's nose wrinkle in distaste. She hefted the jug and twisted off the lid. "You're dehydrated, and they couldn't find a vein to run an IV."
He took the fluorescent-orange concoction in hand and suspiciously peered inside. A scent that could almostbe described as citrus reached his nostrils.
"This is syrup," he objected, looking back up at her with a grimace.
"It's concentrate," she explained. She moved to sit facing him on the bed, crossed-legged. "Your metabolism is so fast that you'd have to drink an entire pallet of the regular kind for it to help."
Shuddering, Loki lifted the bottle to his lips and took a reluctant sip – and began to gulp as soon the sickly-sweet liquid hit his tongue, not stopping until he had drained it completely.
Brynn traded him the jug for a bottle of water.
"Better?" she asked when he was finished.
He nodded and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand, slightly out of breath. Foul flavor aside, he was already feeling a bit more clear-headed – enabling his brain to zero in on a single, crucial question.
His gaze locked on Brynn.
"Why?" he asked fiercely. "Why did they send you in?"
An expression Loki had never seen before crossed her face: Guilt.
"Tell me," he said firmly.
Brynn shifted uncomfortably.
"You have to promise you won't get mad at Thor," she warned.
Loki's reply was instant: "No."
Her nose scrunched.
"No, you won't promise, or no, you won't get mad at Thor?"
"No," he repeated, firmer this time.
She picked at the Gatorade label, weighing her options, then pulled a face and looked back up.
"No one sent me in," she admitted. "It was my idea."
Exhaustion had nothing to do with why his brain struggled to fathom this confession, and bile joined the cloying aftertaste in his mouth as he stared at her in horror.
"Woman, are you insane?" he rasped when he found his voice again. "You could have been killed!"
Brynn irritably tore the label from the jug.
"I know!" she answered, sounding a little defensive. "But I had to try! You were burning up, and no one knew how long it would be before you stroked out or ended up brain damaged, and the one thing everyone knew would work was me going in to try to talk to you, and I told them you couldn't hurt me, but no one believed me…"
Her rambling was threatening to careen out of control, and she was almost in tears.
Loki reached out and grasped her hand.
"Slow down," he soothed, squeezing her fingers. "What do you mean, burning up?"
Brynn shut her eyes and took a deep breath.
"It was the scepter," she said shakily. "It drove your body temperature up, but you were running more than a fever." She opened her eyes again, and in a steadier voice explained, "You were almost at a hundred and twenty by the time I got to you. And Thor said because you're yo..."
A frown crossed her face.
"Yodel...Yoda?"[GU1]
"Jotunn," Loki supplied woodenly.
"Yeah, that." She nodded dismissively, blithely unaware of her own ignorance. "Thor said you being hot for that long could kill you. They were rigging up something to try and pump colder air into the cell, but I was afraid they wouldn't get it working in time. So," she shrugged, "I decided to do something about it."
Loki quietly seethed, listening, and started compiling a rank-ordered list of people he would like to throttle. Oh, he could envision how it all must have played out – Coulson, Fury, all of them, always on the lookout for their own self-interests, rather than trying to protect the one who was most vulnerable of all.
I'd string them all up by their entrails if I wasn't so damned tired.
He scrubbed a hand down his face, wishing his eyes didn't feel so gritty.
"You had a weapon," he remembered suddenly. "What was it?"
"The ICER?"
He lifted a brow.
"Is that supposed to be a joke?"
Brynn looked at him blankly, then let out a small laugh as she caught onto his meaning.
"No, not a joke - it's an acronym," she explained. "I don't remember what it is, but you know SHIELD – they wouldn't be doing their jobs properly if they didn't have a secret codename for everything." She rolled her eyes, continuing, "Thor charmed security into giving him access to the primary weapons bay, and I followed him in wearing my bracelet. Luckily SHIELD believes in hiding things in plain sight," she added with a snort. "I picked one up off the shelf and then we both walked out."
"But how did you know to even use it at all?" Loki wanted to know, still confused.
Brynn's mouth curved into a small, wicked smile.
"Back when we first met – do you remember me telling you about how I got into one of the weapons bays?"
"Vaguely," he said. He dug through his memory, trying to recall more of the conversation. "I think you mentioned stealing a keycard?"
She nodded.
"The security guards had been playing around with ICERs when I came in that day. I didn't recognize the make and model, but as soon as Tweedledee took out Tweedledum, I realized they were stun guns. I got hauled out before I could get a closer look, but I remembered them as soon as I saw the one MacKenzie had on his belt. That's what gave me the idea. I thought if I cranked the ICER up to eleven, it might knock you out, too." She paused, looking puzzled. "What?"
Loki wore an astonished expression.
"I find it incomprehensible that SHIELD relies on such flimsy technology to guard their munitions."
Brynn gave him a flat look.
"You mean the key cards? It's the United States government," she dryly replied. "What'd you expect?"
"True," he admitted. "How did you know the device would even work?"
"I tested it out on Thor."
A wistful smile touched his mouth.
"Wish I could've seen that."
"He dropped so hard it left a crack in the floor." Brynn winced, remembering. "Anyway, once we knew it would work, Thor took me down to where they were holding you –"
"Putting you completely in harm's way," Loki interjected, voice hardening.
Brynn cursed under her breath and made another reach for the bedside table.
"You promised you wouldn't get mad at him!"
"I did no such thing," he heatedly shot back.
"Fine," she groused, picking up one of the unopened bottles of water, "But if you're going to get mad, then I'mthe one you need to be yelling at, not Thor. I forced him into helping me."
"Forced him," Loki snorted in disbelief. "He's three times your size."
She fixed him with a scowl and held out the water.
"He's three times the size of everybody. Now stop being righteously indignant over shit that you can't change."
Loki sullenly accepted her peace offering.
"What of the scepter?" he asked. "Where is it?"
"I don't know," she answered. She fiddled with a discarded bottle top, saying, "I had it out of your hands before you hit the ground. Thor busted back in a second later to get you, but then you..."
Brynn's hands abruptly went still, and a strange look came over her face.
"Do you like Jell-O?" she blurted out. "Cherry? No, wait – probably lime, right?"
Loki's eyes narrowed to slits.
"Out with it," he ordered.
Brynn's shoulders sank, and she reluctantly said, "You turned blue."
The sour taste of half-digested Gatorade rose in his throat.
"It was just for a few seconds!" she added brightly, trying to put a positive spin on this revelation. "And Thor was touching you when it happened and didn't get hurt."
He looked past her, poring all of his focus upon a sign that hung on the far wall. Its design was simple — a small black-and-white human figure being chased by a red flame, rushing down a set of stairs
IN CASE OF FIRE
DO NOT USE ELEVATOR
USE STAIRS
Brynn's remark about wanting to set the Helicarrier on fire suddenly seemed perfectly reasonable.
"Who saw?" he gritted out.
Her silence was enough of an answer, and his left hand slowly closed into a fist in the bedclothes.
"I trust everyone has recovered from the horror of what they had the misfortune to witness?" he tightly inquired.
Brynn blew an impatient puff of air and tossed the bottle cap aside.
"You need to send James Cameron the flower arrangement of the fucking century, okay?" she told him, exasperated. "No one is frightened by tall, blue men anymore."
Loki said nothing. His focus had been trained on the sign for so long that his eyes were playing tricks. The red flame was gone; instead, the person was being chased by a second humanoid figure, identical in shape, but colored blue.
IN CASE OF JOTUN
DO NOT USE ELEVATOR
USE STAIRS
"Loki?"
Worried grey eyes unexpectedly filled his entire vision. Unable to get his attention, Brynn had moved to straddle his lap and watched him, anxiously waiting for him to speak.
"This is no joke to me," he whispered.
Her face fell.
"I know it's not," she said contritely. "I'm sorry." She hesitated, then lifted her hand to smooth his hair back from his brow. "No one really reacted when it happened because nobody knew what to do."
"What do you mean?" he asked, frowning.
"Your temperature went down right away, but you weren't waking up," she explained. "Thor was unconscious for only a couple of minutes when I tested the ICER on him, but he also wasn't being mind-controlled or being roasted inside-out, so it wasn't exactly a good comparison. Bruce was the one who put it together that you were dehydrated. Speaking of –"
Brynn nudged the water he still held in his hand, forgotten.
He agreeably drank down the remainder as she continued, "We finally just decided to let you sleep and try to get some ice chips in you every couple of hours. That was – "
She went to glance at her watch, sighed when she remembered it was gone, looked back up at Loki and anticlimactically finished, "A few hours ago."
He stayed quiet for a long moment. His eyes briefly lingered on her lips. She had neatly avoided discussing their kiss, but for once he was of the same mind. They needed to talk, but he wanted to have a proper bath first – or at the very least, recent access to a toothbrush.
"Thank you," he finally said.
Brynn tilted her head, puzzled.
"For what?"
He interlaced their fingers, knowing that she would never be able to fully conceptualize the scope of what she had accomplished.
"For saving me," he said simply. "I-I owe you my life, Brynn Nolan. I owe you everything."
The reverence in his voice was making her squirm, and she flashed a crooked smile.
"That's okay," she lightly replied, "Buy me a new watch and we'll call it even."
"Really?" It was obvious Brynn was trying to break the solemnity of the moment, and he musingly scratched his chin, playing along. "Then I hereby accept your most gracious offer."
"Loki, I was just…"
A sports watch materialized on her wrist — the most up-to-date model of her old one, but neon-green in color rather than turquoise.
"…kidding," she finished weakly. She owlishly blinked down at the watch, then burst into peals of laughter.
"Well?" he teased. "Are we even?"
"It's even got built-in GPS!" she gasped, not hearing him. "And automatic pace alerts!"
She eagerly held her wrist out for Loki to see. He did a smile-and-nod, pretending that the terminology she was using held any actual meaning for him – and silently marveled that the gift of a Timex could return the sparkle to her eyes better than the crown jewels of Asgard.
"What's the Tesseract that everyone keeps talking about?"
Loki blanched.
Many of her questions came out of nowhere but pinpointing the context of whatever popped into her head had become second nature. He almost always could pick up the discussion right from where her mind had left off. But there had been the odd instance, here and there, when her scattered train of thought caught him so off-guard that he was left floundering.
What's the Tesseract that everyone keeps talking about?
The answer was simple enough. But he was tired of providing half-truths and white lies. If he was going to tell her – no, not if, when –
When he told her, he wanted to be able to tell her everything, which meant he needed to do it the right way, at the right moment. Now was certainly not that moment. They were both exhausted. She needed rest, and he was too fatigued to choose his words with care, and it was hardly fair to bombard her with his story when she was less than twenty-four hours out from being driven to a neurological breaking point.
Brynn had been too preoccupied with her watch to see the smile from Loki's face, but now she was peering at him, wondering why he was taking so long to reply.
"Please," he told her, trying to hold back the catch in his voice. "Just…later. Ask me later."
"It's okay," she swiftly reassured him. "Later's fine."
Another knot began to take up residence in his chest, but of a different size and shape than its predecessor.
"Where's Thor?" he asked, hoping to change the subject.
"He just left," Brynn replied. She climbed off his lap and settled back across from him, hugging her knees to try and give him more space on the bed. "He said he had to cover a meeting for you – it was with somebody that sounded like Anaheim, but I don't think he meant California."
"Vanaheim," Loki said with a groan, letting his head fall back against the pillows.
"What's wrong?" Brynn looked at him, worried. "Who's Vanaheim?"
"Vanaheim isn't a who, it's a place," he absently replied. He was trying to calculate the amount of Gatorade the Allfather could reasonably consume in order to become violently ill just as formal introductions were about to start – anything to avoid that insipid ambassador.
"The head of their delegation is tragically devoid of a personality," he continued, "and I've been putting off trade negotiations with them for – well, longer than custom would dictate as being polite. I forgot that I appointed Thor as my diplomatic envoy. Which means the entire thing is in shambles or he's got them eating out of his hand."
Brynn's eyes had gone wide with alarm.
"Sorry." Loki smiled apologetically and quipped, "Just another day at the office."
"Yeah – totally get it," she nodded hastily. "Upper management is the worst, right? Anyway, it sounds like you've got a lot of work ahead of you, so you should probably try to get some more sleep."
"Please don't go," Loki mildly requested, watching her as she swung her legs down to the floor.
"I've been awake for the last thirty-six hours," Brynn said, standing up. "No seizures," she added, anticipating his next question, "But I'm really, really tired."
"Sleep here," he suggested. He held his arm out for her expectantly, smiling. The hospital bed was too small for them to lay side-by-side, but it would hardly be the first time she had fallen asleep atop him, and he wanted her near anyway. "I'll hold you. Likely we shall both wake better rested for it."
A chill that had nothing to do with his Jotunn blood settled deep into the marrow of his bones when Brynn shook her head.
"I'm dead on my feet," she told him, "And you look like you could sleep for a week and neither of us will get any rest trying to share this sardine can of a bed…"
He tried to ignore the sinking feeling in his gut as she rattled off these perfectly reasonable excuses. He knew that forced tone of cheer in her voice, and it spelled nothing good.
"And, Thor said he needed to debrief you on some stuff when he got back," she was saying as she started to edge her way to the door. "Probably top secret, if-I-hear-it-he'll-have-to-kill-me kind of thing. I'll come check on you later, okay?"
Another too-bright smile, and she was gone.
"Okay," he finally mumbled to the empty room.
The sky outside his window was dark the second time he awoke. Something warm was pressed into his side, and he glanced down to find Brynn crammed in next to him in bed, wedged between him and the bedrail. She was asleep, his left arm hugged in both of hers, her cheek pressed into his sleeve.
He let out a quiet sigh of relief, and his eyes slowly fell back shut.
"Marry her, fool."
Loki's head whipped around. A familiar shape sat lurking by his bedside – Thor, his massive frame making the plastic chair appear even more dwarfed in comparison.
"How long have you been there?" he hissed.
"Long enough to see how you looked at her just now," Thor shot back. He tilted his head in Brynn's direction. "Will she stay asleep?"
"Does it matter?" Loki retorted. "You seem determined to talk to me anyway."
"Will she stay asleep?" Thor repeated.
Grumbling, Loki reached over with his free arm to give Brynn a firm nudge on the shoulder. She muttered in protest and pressed closer but did not wake up.
"Yes."
Thor nodded, satisfied.
"Marry her."
The quiet earnestness in his brother's rumbling voice stopped Loki from replying with a caustic rejoinder, and he cast his gaze towards the ceiling.
"She'll not have me," he said dully. "Not if she knows the truth."
"If she loves you, then the truth won't matter."
Loki snapped his head back over at Thor, lip curled in scorn.
"Things are always so simple to you, Thor, are they not?" he spat. "One person loves another, everything else ceases to matter, the end. Her husband died in the hell that I rained down upon her city. She was carrying their child. My mind may have been far afield that day, but it was still my arm that flung the sword."
"I know your crimes, Loki," Thor acknowledged, "but I still love you."
"And would you be as quick to pardon me if Jane Foster had died as a result of my actions?" Loki challenged bitterly.
Once again, silence was all the answer he needed.
Then came a quiet rumble: "Yes."
That damned knot started up again in his chest, wrapping his lungs in a vice and making it impossible to breathe.
"That day, when we fought on the bridge," Thor somberly began, "There was no sanity left in your eyes." He shook his head, remembering. "All I saw was despair and pain and rage. Demons that had been lurking within you for years – demons I should have seen; that we all should have seen.
"But when we fought again on Midgard…" His face hardened, but his voice grew bleak, "You were different. There was panic in your eyes that I had not seen since we were boys. I should have known that other forces were at work, ones that were beyond your influence or control – but I wasn't paying attention –"
As usual, Loki sourly interjected inside his head.
"—As usual."
The knot twisted hard, and suddenly he was near tears.
"So to answer your question, brother…"
Unbidden, Loki lifted his eyes to Thor's.
"If Jane had died that day, I would still love you," Thor finished, looking back at him steadily. "Because the crimes you committed were not of your own doing. I was simply too blind to realize it. And I am sorry."
A sob was building in his throat, but he choked it down and tore his gaze away. His eyes landed on the fire escape sign, glowing softly in the dark. He judiciously began to study its backlit text, rereading the words over and over until the danger had passed.
Mjolnir had been feather-light compared to the weight suffocating him now. His mother, and now Thor, too? All that was left was for Odin make an uninvited appearance and toss his own mea culpa into the ring.
Mustn't risk insult not being properly added to injury, Loki angrily reflected.
"Brother?"
He plastered a sneer across his face and looked over at the blonde-haired brute sitting in the corner.
"Am I supposed to thank you?" he sarcastically inquired. "Forgive you? I said it before, I'll say it again – fine words."
"Loki, I have no –"
Brynn began to stir in her sleep. They had neglected to be mindful of their volume, and both men immediately fell silent.
Thor tensed in anticipation of her waking up, but Loki shifted and calmly bent his head down to whisper in her ear. He watched the pair, fascinated. He was well-acquainted with his brother's sleeping spells, but this was an altogether different type of magic.
The tender moment came to an abrupt end the instant Brynn fell back to sleep. Loki wasted no time resuming the argument, albeit in softer tones, and Thor wearily braced himself for the next assault.
"Don't think I've forgotten you broke your promise, either," Loki whispered accusingly. "I trusted you to protect her, not help her walk straight into harm's way!"
Thor sighed and made another futile attempt to find a comfortable spot in his chair.
"Loki, her mind was made up," he said bluntly. "Would you rather me not have helped at all and left her completely defenseless?"
"Yes!" Loki snapped, "Because then she – "
He stopped short. An odd look came over his face, and Thor was granted the rare pleasure of watching his brother plummet through a gaping hole in his own logic.
"If it makes you feel any better, she was the one who pointed it out to me," he offered.
"Oh, shut up," Loki muttered.
Scowling, he resettled himself against the pillows with a huff and pointedly closed his eyes. If he was going to be forced to suffer his brother's company, there was no reason he had to endure the sight of him as well.
Brynn's watch started to beep just then, signaling the half-hour. He automatically reached for her wrist to silence the alarm, eyes still firmly shut.
"You never did share your opinion about my earlier suggestion," he heard Thor casually remark.
Loki let out a derisive snort of laughter – now he wished to see his brother's face.
"Oh, do tell, Thor," he simpered, "When did you become such a fierce proponent of matrimony? Or have you forgotten that you have yet to wed your precious Lady Jane?"
Thor considered the question, looking thoughtful. Sarcasm aside, Loki made a fair point.
"I love Jane," he said after a long moment. "With all my heart, I love her. And she returns that love. But Jane does not need me. If I returned to Asgard, she would grieve my absence for a time, and then move on. The hole I once filled in her heart would eventually be replaced by another."
The unpleasant sneer Loki wore slowly began to falter and fade.
"Brother, that girl thwarted an infinity stone armed with nothing more than her love for you," Thor told him firmly. "She needs you – and you, her. So yes, marry her. As soon as possible, before she realizes you're the lunkheaded oaf."
A flicker of hope briefly obscured the shadows in Loki's eyes. He would forever be the God of Lies, but he was tired of falling victim to his own falsehoods. To say that he had not harbored such dreams would be the biggest lie of his life, and in more years than he could count, he looked to his brother for guidance.
"I must tell her the truth," he whispered.
"Of course," Thor readily agreed.
"And if she leaves?"
"She won't."
Loki knew better than to try and reason with Thor's eternally baseless sense of optimism.
"Supposing you're right – but all for what?" he challenged, trying a different line of argument. "Subjecting her to a lifetime of deception? Or if I were to be deposed? No, I'll not –"
"Loki, you seem to forget the only one with the authority to depose you is me, and I have no interest in doing anything of the sort," Thor interrupted, rolling his eyes. He fixed Loki with a shrewd look. "What? You don't think she's qualified for the job?"
"Brynn?" Loki's brows shot straight to his hairline. "Queen consort?"
"Why not? Shake things up a little," Thor suggested. "You don't think she would be up for the task?"
"I think she would upturn Asgard straight on its head within her first five minutes of exiting the Bifrost," Loki said dryly, "My concern is she would be miserable."
Thor's enormous shoulders lifted in a shrug.
"Why not let her decide that?"
Loki immediately went to explain exactly why not but was overtaken by a jaw-cracking yawn.
Chuckling, Thor began the awkward process of trying to unwedge his bulk from the plastic confines of his chair. After some delicate maneuvering, he successfully extricated himself with only minor damage and rose to his feet.
"You need to sleep. Oh, before I forget…"
He nimbly reached down to the floor and came up holding a familiar-looking object: A gallon of Gatorade concentrate.
Loki glowered.
"Doctor's orders," Thor said cheerfully as he set the concoction on the table. "The flavor is fruit punch."
"Whose side are you on?" Loki complained.
"Hers."
Loki pulled a face, accepting defeat, but could not help muttering under his breath, "Did it have to be red?"
Thor carefully placed a second jug on the table – a lurid shade of green, this time.
"I'm on your side, too."
His heart throbbed, and through a teary blur of Fruit Punch and Green Apple he saw two men – one dressed in crimson and silver, the other clad in emerald and gold; and in their laughter he could hear the lingering innocence of boyhood.
Thor leaned down to grip Loki's shoulder in a firm hold.
"You're my brother," he told him quietly, "and my friend. Sometimes I am envious – but never doubt that I love you…"
A sob threatened to wrench out from Loki's chest as he looked into the warmth of Thor's face, and desperately tried not to shrink away into the pillow.
"…Cow."
The sob left him in a surprised, watery chuckle instead.
"Nice feathers," he rasped.
Neither quite knew what to do or say next. Loki surreptitiously dried his cheeks, and Thor's eyes appeared equally damp as he cleared his throat and straightened.
"Get some sleep," he gruffly ordered.
Loki nodded.
"You, too."
He waited for him to depart, but Thor continued to hover by the bed, rocking back and forth on his heels. He was reluctant to leave; there was more to say, centuries of dysfunction yet to unpack.
"Go to bed, Thor," he said quietly.
Looking much more reassured – Loki had told him go to bed and not goodbye – Thor gave him a grateful smile and left, sparing them both from further awkwardness.
"Liten vannfe?"
Brynn kept her back towards him as he walked into the exercise studio, the very same he had encountered her in all those months ago. She sat on the floor with an array of throwing knives spread before her, pensively studying the target that was still taped to the wall from their last practice session.
"How are you feeling?" she asked as Loki sank down beside her.
"I sincerely hope to never encounter a bottle of Gatorade again – in any color," he said with a quick laugh.
Brynn flashed a limp smile in reply and went back to arranging the knives from smallest-to-largest.
She looked better, he was pleased to see. The circles under her eyes had lessened, and (much to his delight) she was wearing new clothes again. Jeans and a white gauzy cotton blouse, printed with tiny green butterflies. The collar had come undone and hung open at the top, and she absently played with one of the ties, twisting it back and forth between her fingers.
"How are you?" he asked finally, giving her a sidelong glance. "I missed you this morning."
He kept his voice upbeat, but he had fallen asleep with a peaceful heart and full expectations that he would wake up with Brynn still beside him. Instead, he woke up to the fading scent of her soap and aftertaste of fruit punch in his mouth.
"I had an EEG," Brynn said tersely.
"Oh." Relieved – this made perfect sense – he waited for her to share the results, hoping for good news.
She continued meticulously organizing the knives.
"I spoke with Bruce," he said finally. He picked up one of the blades and turned it over to study its hilt. "They're suspending the project indefinitely. You know what that means, don't you?"
"I'm a free agent?"
The sarcasm in her voice made him smile.
"Exactly," he said. "Which means I take you on the vacation we spoke of. Remember?" He nudged her with his elbow. "Salar de Uyuni?"
He was certain this prospect would spark some interest, but Brynn remained strangely subdued.
"Oh. I think my passport's expired," she said vaguely, peering back at the target..
"I'm fairly we could find someone willing to expedite the paperwork," he dryly pointed out, rolling his eyes. "You're owed one or two favors…or a thousand."
SHe unexpectedly sprang to her feet and went to take a closer look at the target.
"Actually, I forgot – I don't have a passport at all."
Loki put on a burst of preternatural speed and dashed in front of her, blocking her way.
"Well, that's easily solved," he said earnestly. "We'll just, ah, surreptitiously cross the border."
His eyes were already full of mischief at such a prospect. Thinking the matter solved, he put his hands on her shoulders and went to kiss her forehead, but Brynn ducked around him.
"I hate flying, though," she said, pulling the battered sheet of paper down from the wall. "And I'm not supposed to go anywhere in a plane because of the air pressure."
"Then we won't use conventional means of travel," he replied, confused. What was going on?
Brynn shrugged and started to shred the target into long, thin strips. She was giving every impression of being completely absorbed in tearing paper, and he watched her with mounting exasperation, trying to understand this sudden reticence. He was no fool. It was abundantly clear that she trying to avoid him, yet she had risked her life to save him only the day before.
Why was she now treating him as if he were a pariah? Was this a game to her, toying with him in this manner?
"Brynn?"
Nothing.
His face darkened. Each second that crept by ate away at his patience and fed the ugly voice in his head, secretly telling him that her kiss had been nothing more than desperate distraction.
Enough.
"Forget it," he spat, turning to leave.
"Where are you going?" she exclaimed from behind him.
He glanced back over his shoulder and was met with an irritable frown.
"Away," he said shortly, "given that you seem to be in no mood for my company."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Brynn demanded.
"It means you can rest assured that I will be sure to keep my distance from now on, until I am told otherwise," he curtly replied.
He executed a short bow before she could reply and began making his way to the door again, not trusting himself to continue. Something precious was breaking, and his walking away now would only inflict further damage, but at that moment he could not bear to see her.
Paper scattered from Brynn's hands and onto the floor as she started to trail after him, but Loki did not break stride.
"You're just going to pack up your toys a[GU2] nd go home?" she challenged from behind him, "I thought we were…"
He stiffened, and his footsteps slowly came to a halt.
"You thought we were what?" He spun back around, wearing a mocking smile. "Friends?"
For a fleeting moment, Brynn's casual mask of disinterest slipped. Panic flickered across her face, and for the first time since he had walked in, she seemed to see him rather than absently looking past him. She was an expert at lying to herself, but Loki had set and successfully sprung the trap, ensnaring her in the one truth they both knew she could not deny.
She nodded.
"And what more than that?" he pressed, taking a step towards her.
Her face went carefully blank.
"Please don't," he acidly requested.
She glanced down, scuffing the floor with the toe of her shoe.
"Don't what?"
The puzzlement in her voice was almost convincing.
"Don't play at being a fool when we both know you're not," he breathed.
"I'm not playing at anything," she insisted, still looking at the floor.
Her determination to drown them both in her own denial sent his temper soaring, and the last fraying thread of his patience finally snapped.
"Loki, just tell me what's wrong…"
"What's wrong?" he echoed with a bitter laugh. "I love you. Madly, deeply – more than I could ever express were I given a thousand lifetimes in which to tell you."
The dam shattered at last and loosed the tide, pouring from his heart in a torrent of angry frustration. He had envisioned this moment countless times, finally telling Brynn he loved her, but in every fever-bright imagining, he only told her when he knew she was ready to hear it.
"Words are too meager, too finite to convey what I feel when I look at you, or hear you, or am near you," he cried, stepping closer. "You – you fragile, foolish, infuriating woman – have permeated every fiber of me so completely that to be parted from you now would mean losing myself entirely. That is what's wrong."
He ended his tirade, slightly out of breath. Brynn stood frozen in place before him, and he was sickened to find that history had cruelly twisted the knife and repeated itself – he had literally backed her into a corner.
A wave of self-loathing crashed over him.
Ever the monster, he thought disgustedly.
"Have you nothing to say?" he demanded when she remained silent. "Are you not satisfied with your good work, witch? Shall I go on? Shall I tell you –"
"No," she said faintly. "I got it. Message received."
Some of the fire left him, hearing the misery in her voice. The mask was gone; he could read her eyes again, and in their grey-green depths he saw only regret – and longing.
His face softened.
"Is it?" His words sounded rough in his ears, and he tried to gentle its cutting edge as he repeated, "Is it really?"
"I…" Brynn's voice strangled, and she reached up between them to toy with the lacings on his tunic. After a few faltering attempts, she managed to choke out, "I feel the same way. You know I do," she added fiercely. "But I can't."
Loki's shoulders sank.
"What happened to seeing this through to the end?" he whispered.
"Oh, Loki…" Her words ended in a guttered sob. "There's a big difference than seeing you make stuff appear and disappear, or roller coasters illusions or invisibility bracelets. But seeing all of that with the scepter, and what you can really do – "
"Are you saying I frighten you?" he asked in confusion.
Her eyes shot up to his.
"No!" she insisted, adamant. "I'm not scared of you. But everything that happened made me realize…"
"Realize what?" Loki pressed. He could tell when she was struggling to string together a sentence; and this woman knew precisely what she thought, she simply did not wish to say the words out loud.
"You're meant for bigger things than me!" Brynn exploded. She haplessly flung her arms out in frustration and continued in a rush, "Loki, you're a king! A real one! And I'm…I'm a social worker who can't work anymore because of this fucking TBI. Don't you see?" she pleaded. "I wouldn't be anything more than a deadweight to you because I'm human, and I'm just too messed up. I'm always going to be too messed up."
She was crying now, face buried in her hands.
"I want to make us work," she wept, "more than anything in the world. But I don't know how. And the only thing I know to do is rip the band-aid off, because this all hurts so much. And if you're as smart as you're supposed to be, you'd admit that I'm right and just tell me goodbye and go home."
The puzzle pieces re-aligned and settled into place, and Loki reached out and framed her face between his palms.
"This mind is not as damaged as you let yourself believe," he told her softly as she lifted her chin to look at him. Keeping one hand cupped against her wet cheek, he took her hand, pressed it to his chest, then added, "And neither is this heart as frozen."
He gazed at her, helpless, a prisoner caught in a gilded cage of his own design.
"Save me, Sabrina fair," he whispered. "You're the only one who can."[GU3]
More tears spilled down her cheeks. He went to wipe them away with his thumb, but then could stand it no longer, and kissed her.
There was an initial moment of uncertainty – a tremor, the faintest trembling sigh, when Loki was convinced he had made a terrible mistake. But Brynn murmured his name and pressed closer, and regret gave way to elated relief.
He handled her carefully at first, just as he would spun glass, mindful of every touch lest she shatter and wisp away between his fingers. She had never shied away from his affections, but he had always been met with hesitation. Now she was pliant, inviting him in and growing more assured with each caress.
Moving cautiously, he deepened the kiss. She responded in kind, letting him linger, her breathing growing shallow; and when he whispered My little queen, he felt her tremble in his arms.
Somewhere, far back in the recesses of his brain where he was still capable rational thought, came a stern reminder:
Slow.
He had overwhelmed her before, misreading her cues. He refused to set them up for a repeat performance.
Steeling himself, Loki gently broke away – and was stunned to see his own lust reflected back in Brynn's eyes. She looked at him breathlessly, dazed, flushed, and equally startled by her own eager response.
He took in a ragged breath and lunged forward to kiss her again, harder. She matched his touch with equal fervor, and what Loki had originally intended to be a soft, chaste encounter rapidly began to dissolve into something far less innocent.
in one swift motion he lifted her up to hitch her legs around his waist, roughly bracing her against the wall, never once losing contact with her mouth. His hands traveled down to the hem of her shirt, seeking out the warmth of her skin, and Brynn's stuttered gasp when he made contact brought on such a rush of arousal that he nearly lost all restraint.
His fingers were readying to pillage her blouse when he finally forced himself to draw back. He pressed his forehead to hers, panting.
"Brynn, I am yours," he gasped, "but if you put me through this sweet agony a third time, I shall –"
"Loki."
"Yes?"
"Shut up and take me to bed."
~*The End*~
HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA.
(Just kidding. I've had this prank planned in my head for years.)