Quick note before we begin, Lunchies! This story is for my lovely sister, AsketronNidavellir8, as a belated birthday present.
The story does include elements of ghosties, although no actual ghosties are there. I do not endorse the speaking-to of ghosties, in any way, shape, or form, but since Loki's "ghosty" here, is not an actual ghosty, it's an illusion... I'm kind of letting it slide? Anyway, yeh. Hope you enjoy!
So where did you go?
I should know, but it's cold
and I don't wanna be lonely
So tell me you'll come home
Even if it's just a lie.
Gone.
Thor's heart was empty.
People say you never know what you have until you lose it, but that was an understatement.
Thor didn't realize he had a heart until it was ripped out.
He didn't realize the sun existed until his world was plunged into darkness.
He hadn't known warmth was a necessity until the bright flame of his brother's life was doused.
And the worst of it was…
He'd done it on purpose.
Loki had left his brother on purpose.
And Thor had been helpless to stop him.
He had sworn to protect his baby brother, once upon a time, but he hadn't known the greatest threat Loki would face would be Thor, himself.
The way he'd constantly degraded, shunned, put him down at every turn. The way he'd soaked up all his father's attention, and disregarded Loki's talents, his interests.
Perhaps he didn't care about the books his brother so dearly loved, but he had cared about Loki.
He simply hadn't known that in order to show you care about someone, you must validate them, their interest. The things that make them happy are a part of them, and Thor should have cherished those things as dearly as he claimed to cherish his brother.
He was pathetic.
There was no excuse, no denying it.
It was no wonder Loki had hated him.
He couldn't even have kept his baby brother from ending his own life.
He was weak. Useless. A selfish, pig-headed boor with his head to high in the clouds to care about the little folk. The ones who needed the sunshine.
Loki.
As he lay dejectedly, face-down on the bed, he loathed himself.
He was a brat, a reckless, impulsive, thick-skulled idiot, and Loki had been right to want to be rid of him.
His pillow was already damp from his tears, but he simply couldn't get himself to stop.
It was shameful, the firstborn son of Odin weeping his heart out in the middle of the night, but he had no will to stop. Loki was gone, and the light had vanished from the world.
Brother…
He'd never hear that word again, in reference to himself. It was over.
His book was closed, and he must be so disappointed in him.
Odin certainly was.
After the feast in his brother's honor, the only one Thor could recall, he'd closed himself in his room, and hadn't eaten or bathed, or even really slept, since.
Why had Loki chosen to go? It couldn't just be him, could it? He'd had so much to live for.
Raising his head up from the pillow to wipe the tears from his face, he caught a glimpse of… something in his peripheral vison.
It couldn't be.
Grief was making his head play tricks on him.
But it was true.
It was Loki, standing in the corner, wringing his hands. He looked a wreck, his clothes in tatters, his face pale and gaunt, as he stared blankly at a spot over Thor's bed, brows knit together in consternation.
Brother…
"L-Loki?" Thor croaked in disbelief, a hint of despair. Shakily, he struggled to his feet, and stumbled over to his brother, clasping his shoulder in disbelief.
But…
His hand went straight through, the apparition vanishing in a stream of golden light, only to reappear several feet away, in the same position.
He was mad.
His mind had conjured these images of his dead brother to taunt him.
With a groan of frustration, he collapsed onto the bed, again.
Brother…
"Shut up." Thor whimpered into his pillow. "You're dead. Leave me to mourn in peace."
He might as well join him. There was nothing left to live for, and, it seemed, his mind was conspiring against him, now, too.
Could he? Did he even have the courage?
What was it like to be dead?
He couldn't imagine it was pleasant, and he was too afraid to doom himself to an eternity of misery, even worse than this.
Brother…
"Shut up!" Thor insisted, chucking a pillow in the specter's direction. This time, it inly flickered a little, before the vacant, miserable eyes turned towards him in surprise.
How could I do this to you?
"What!?" Thor blurted in confusion, and wiped his nose on his sleeve. Hold on a second. Don't humor the hallucination; people will think you mad. Being stuck in a mental asylum was the last thing he wanted next.
You're ruined… what have I done?
No.
No, Loki couldn't believe that, specter or not. "You didn't do anything. It was my fault." Thor insisted, pushing himself into a sitting position.
The apparition seemed to be genuinely upset, and moved forward, hands outstretched in a gesture of comfort, deep remorse flooding his eyes. Before he could say or do anything, though, the form flickered once, twice, and dissipated, leaving no sign that his brother had ever been there in the first place.
Thor hugged his knees to his chest, completely forlorn. He didn't even know what that was.
A trick of the mind?
A ghost?
Had Loki come back to haunt him for his shortcomings?
Sorry.
Thor looked up in surprise to see his brother sitting in the chair by his bedside, hands clasped in his lap, as he avoided Thor's gaze.
Bridging the gap is harder than I expected. And… I didn't know I could.
"You're dead." Thor insisted, shaking his head.
I suppose, after a fashion. Loki cracked a rueful smile, glancing up, his eyes dark and shadowed. He looked so tired…
"You're a ghost?" Thor guessed, his voice hushed in horror. "Are you in pain?"
I can bear it. He shrugged his shoulders, as if being dead was nothing to be concerned over. Of course he would say that. If he had admitted he was in pain, actually, he would be being dramatic. He never said he was hurting when he really was.
It was probably what had driven him that far.
"Then… now what?" Thor breathed, wiping at his eyes. "Your spirit… Do I put you to rest, somehow?"
I'm fine. Loki insisted with a forced smile. You let my spirit rest when I know you're happy.
"How can I be happy when you're gone?" Thor demanded.
Loki seemed confused at this, the sort of confused a person gets when they're too tired to understand anything. He shook his head. I… I haven't got much more… in me… He admitted. I can't… stay much longer… just… eat somethi…
And then he was gone.
Thor ate.
For Loki, or at least his ghost.
The specter didn't show itself again for another two weeks, and Thor wondered if it had simply been a fluke of his mind. Just another way his whole life was going to hay. At least, until he saw it again, curled into a miserable huddle on the floor of his washroom, whimpering for him.
He wasn't exactly sure what to make of it.
How were you supposed to address your brother's ghost?
"Loki?" He tried, confused, yet hesitant.
Immediately, his younger brother's eyes flicked up to his, and an expression of immense relief flooded the Trickster's features. Brother…
Not this, again. Thor crouched down on the tiles, giving his brother a scrutinizing stare. He looked, somehow, even worse than before as if he hadn't slept in weeks, and his left eye was swollen shut. What in the Nine happened to him?
Stay with me, a moment?
"Of course." Thor nodded. "Is there… anything I can get you?"
Mutely, the specter shook his head, clutching at his ribcage in utter misery.
"There's no way I can help?" Thor blurted, fidgeting in his eagerness. "You're in so much pain…"
Surely not as much as you are. The ghost returned. I never thought… my dying would put you into as much… agony as it has. I'm sorry, Thor. Truly, I am.
"I shouldn't have been such a childish…" Thor began, but the illusion sent such a withering glare at him, that he could not continue.
Don't give me that baloney. Loki snapped. My actions were mine alone.
"If you say it is so…" Thor sighed bleakly. In life, he'd been constantly disagreeing with Thor, and with the limited time the spirit had on this side, he had no wish to start up the quarrels again. "Then I wholeheartedly forgive you, Loki."
Thank you… The ghost seemed a little confused by this, but at least a little distracted from his pain. How… How's Mother?
"She mourns you, as I do." Thor admitted. "But she carries on. Unlike me."
She… she mourns? This seemed like enormous news to Loki, and his eyes grew wide in wonder.
"Of course." Thor smiled softly. "She planted a sapling in her garden, in your memory, and she sits by it every day, thinking of you."
Loki's immaterial eyes filled with grateful tears. …Truly?
Thor nodded. "Did you think we wouldn't care?"
Well… yes. The ghost admitted. You never seemed to, when I was there, at least.
"I know." Thor sighed. "I know all too well. And I'll never stop regretting that. But Loki… I shall never forget you. I've had new vambraces ordered, ones with your helmet carved upon them."
You can't be serious. Angrily, Loki wiped at his eyes in disbelief. No, this is some sort of cruel jest. You? You don't… accessorize.
"Now I do." The Thunderer shrugged. "You can never know how much you mean to us, Brother. You certainly shan't be forgotten."
At that, Loki struggled to a sitting position, that calculating gaze he had always used to pry Thor's darkest secrets from his soul settling onto his face. For a good ten seconds, neither of them said a word, until another tear slipped down his flickering cheek. Thank you... Were the only words he was capable of, before he buried his face in his hands, his shoulders shaking in sobs.
At that moment, Thor wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around his brother, and comfort him, but he knew his hands would only pass right through Loki's form.
As the image faded away, never to return again, Thor found himself a little more hopeful, as if the world wasn't as bleak as before. At least Loki didn't blame him. At least he was forgiven. He had no way to ease his brother's suffering, but perhaps that, too, would draw to a close, in time.
Half a universe away, Loki sat, chained and beaten, against the wall of his cell in the Sanctuary. Too weak to keep up any more illusions, his eyelids drooped in his exhaustion, as a small smile played on his lips.
Better, anyway, to allow Thor to think him dead. It wasn't as if he would be able to return, so he might as well be gone forever.
At least he would be mourned, though.
At least his oaf of a brother would be wearing vambraces with his stupid helmet on them in his memory.
TheOnlyHuman.