Distorted & Disordered

Chapter 9

**Trigger Warning**: Eating Disorder details and suicidality mentioned in this chapter. You have been warned.

They were all together, amidst one another's company, a true family once more. The gold borders of the pale blue walls practically shone in brightness at Frigga's return. The television, which lay in silence, flickered with moving images of an action packed movie. The occupants of the room, however, were not engrossed in its display of bright lit flames and indestructible cars. Rather, they were keen on one another, soaking up the presence of each other as a dragonfly soaks up the rays of a rising sun.

Thor, whose hairy leg extended from his pair of red shorts, laid one leg over the dark arm of an ass-sucking chair, his other leg rooted to the ground like a tree.

Frigga and Odin were sat snuggled close on the equally black couch, their fingers intertwined as married couples tend to do.

And, Loki, he sat by his lonesome on the floor of the living room, just around the corner of the glass table, listening intently to his mother's stories about the business trip she had been on.

It was early in the evening, nearly six o'clock, and Loki could feel his stomach growl lowly from the hunger that clung to his meek shoulders almost daily now. He bit the inside of his cheek absent mindedly, watching as his mother smiled with pride discussing her non-profit organization in further detail.

"We are making great strides in spreading awareness surrounding mental health issues," she exclaimed happily, "the statistics of our aid has shown that more people are reaching out to us to share their stories than what has been done by any other non-profit. All of our volunteers are such kind souls, we're so happy to have them offering their time with us in Soul Search, between lending a kind ear to getting all technological with the means by which they share our soul's stories. Without their hard work, I can't imagine how we could be launching this project into the nation so soon. We'll be yet another service for people who are struggling with their mental health issues, and we'll be there for them to help raise awareness in their community." Frigga smiled warmly, the hope in her eyes dancing lightly.

Thor grinned in equal measures of pride and honor for their mother, soon exclaiming, "Mother, what great work you are invested in! We knew you could do this!"

Frigga turned her gaze to Thor and then to Loki, admitting with a small blush, "You all did a great part in boosting my confidence to spread awareness about this mission. It is so heartbreaking to hear some of the stories our callers go through, with their families being unaccepting or aggressively judgmental…" Frigga paused for a moment, thinking back on some cases that stirred her with anguish and anger. "…However, without all of your support, I couldn't have made it this far. Truly." She turned to Odin then, nuzzling her nose to his, although the older man protested sheepishly.

Thor roared into a cheer, with Loki rolling his eyes and laughing at him.

"We are all mighty and strong! We shall crush the source of mental illness for all those who come across its path. We are no family of weakness!" Thor fist pumped the air heroically.

Frigga frowned in response, although Odin imperceptibly nodded his head in affirmation.

"Thor," Frigga's eyebrows raised three inches up her forehead, "No one is weak for having a mental health issue. Remember how I've advised you about your words? Do keep that in mind, more, my son."

Thor blushed lightly, bending his head down and letting his hands fall flatly to his sides.

"My apologies, mother."

But Loki didn't think he was all that apologetic.

Thor, he thought, could boast and laugh and cheer in triumph all he wants, but he'd never know the pain and anguish that was Loki's existence each and every day. The younger adolescent pitied him, as Thor would likely never feel that pain in his life. Let alone for him to be able to understand it and be open to others' experiences of such pain.

No, Thor was the type of boy to say things first, and think about his choices later.

Loki shook his head, mumbling to himself, "Mental illness can happen to anyone, Thor. You're not immune to it just because mother does side work in the mental health field."

Loki busied himself with a stray strand of string on his sleeve, avoiding his older brother's gaze as he felt it slide sideways to him.

Before Thor could utter a word in response, Odin cut in sharply, "While our family may not be immune, we are certainly stronger. Knowing more of the signs of mental illness gives us a leg up from some of our other…neighbors…on the issue."

"Strength, then, is subjective," Loki countered back easily, eyes narrowing in spite.

Thor, trying to stave out another argument that was impending from the way his brother's eyes turned a glassy hue and how his father's lips tore apart and were about to rip Loki a new asshole, interrupts conceding to Loki's point.

"…No, Loki is right. I misspoke. I suppose I should mind my tongue more than I do," Thor stated quietly, frowning slightly and meeting Loki's gaze.

Loki smiled a small smile, appreciative of his older brother's support and wisdom to admit when he was in the wrong. Maybe there was hope yet for Thor, behind all his blindingly bright stigmatization.

Father, however, was another matter entirely.

With that having settled the soon to erupt argument, Odin stood from the couch and motioned Thor towards the kitchen.

"It is time now for us to set up dinner, in honor of all your hard work and your return, my love," Odin spoke softly to Frigga, his one good eye staring fondly at her beauty.

Frigga smiled, more than delighted to be off from cooking that evening.

"Thank you, my husband."

Pushing Thor into the kitchen, Odin left the room and his giant ego disappeared with him.

Loki shifted his ankles, aware of his mother's concerned gaze watching him dutifully.

"Loki, my son?" Frigga whispered kindly.

"Yes, mother?" Loki raised his green eyes to meet his mother's compassionate ones.

"You know your father is still rough around the edges about my choice of … topic for this non-profit. But he means well, even though he doesn't tend to sound like he does," Frigga watched Loki knowingly, her gaze never leaving his eyes.

He wondered then, captured in his mother's light, whether she knew. Did she really know the secrets he kept in his closet? Or was this just a mother looking after one of her own?

His mother had always been keen with them as young boys, careful and sometimes slightly overprotective when it came to them getting into chaos and ruckus, even though Loki's wild streak was dull compared to Thor's, he still had a wicked sense of mischief that would often lead the pair into trouble. The point, however, was that their mother was very aware of any signs of illness within the two boys.

Mother had led a life taking care of her three sisters far before she was ready or capable enough to do so. Due to this upbringing, she was hyper aware of physical illness in her family's home. She was so attuned to her sister Madeline, that she would get a sixth sense Madeline was getting a cold, far before Madeline even realized it.

As such, mother had kept this skill with her into her two pregnancies. Only when Loki was about nine did she become more attuned to the signs of mental illness as well.

However, what Loki suspects is his depression, took root many years before then. For him, her awareness was too late.

It honored and humbled Loki that his mother could be there, early and aware, for other children out in the world, which is why he so fully supported his mother's non-profit. But, for Loki, it was already too late. The damage had been iron wrought into his veins, into the bones of his body and the propensity for him to feel ever so worthless and unnecessary to this family's chronicles filled him with the dread that he should just listen to the voices inside his head and end his misery already.

So, when his mother was looking so expectantly into his eyes, he wondered to himself whether or not she knew. Did she know of this internal war waging on between his ears? Did she know and if she knew, would she honestly care? It would just be another burden on her shoulders.

Loki would hear her at night, sometimes, sobbing from the misery that existed within all those souls that reached out, bravely sharing their stories with the world, with the organization led by his beloved mother, but the toll it took on her at times was great. Loki would hear her crying in the middle of the night, imagining her tears rolling down her blessed cheeks, just as his did many, many late evenings.

To add his worries onto her would be a burden too high to bear. It was only Loki's to bear the might of. So bear it he would.

Blinking back the story locked behind his lips, Loki affirmed, "Father means well, he just sucks at showing it." The lie on his lips felt as dirty as ash.

How disgusting, he felt. How truly, truly disgusting he was. Lying to his mother, straight to her face?

Only to hide the truth, he told himself. Only to hide his burden from her already burdened eyes.

Frigga took a moment to tilt her head sideways and study Loki.

"And you would tell me, Loki, if you were hurting?"

Loki's heart cracked a little harder at that question, for the years his mother has been asking him that in private. Thor, no doubt, would boast about his pride and joy. But Loki? Loki was a fairer type, a shyer boy, someone who kept to himself and his studies. Someone who pined after his father's approval in such a sickeningly desperate and pathetic manner that he was sure Odin saw his behavior and was disgusted by it. Loki felt disgusted and sick of himself enough for it, and he knew Thor noticed how he acted and he was sure mother knew as well.

But still, Loki's lips were sealed shut, as they had always been. Again, it was his burden to bear, his secrets to keep hidden, he could handle things on his own.

So he forced a smile to meet his eyes and reassured his mother, "I would dare not hide a thing from you, mother. Not something as important as my health."

It was Loki's mind that made up how his health wasn't nearly as important as those around him. For, again, he was nothing-in a world of nothingness with a body as useless and pitiful as his own mind.

A few minutes before dinner would begin; Loki steeled himself in front of the bathroom mirror. He had slipped away soon after his lied assurances to his mother, and the sickness that rolled in his stomach could do somersaults without him knowing it.

He felt he had to weigh himself.

He had to.

He had to know how far away he was. How far gone down the path was his brain leading him, and would there be a distance at some point that would cause him to snap to attention and run fleeing in the opposite direction? How much anguish and pain and control was he dealing with here? In this dark, ever enclosing void?

Loki ripped out the scale, but set it down quietly onto the floor. He quickly stepped up onto it when the digitized scale set itself to zero. If only Loki had the power to be weightless.

By the Norns, what a dream that was.

Loki bit his lip in concentration, hopping onto the scale quickly.

123.2

"Fuck!" Loki spat, stepping back off the scale, waiting for the reading to disappear before he stashed the scale back into its hiding spot.

He didn't want to arise any suspicion from his family members, even if Thor was already taunting him about his weight earlier that afternoon, and now mother was searching his soul for an answer to his silence.

Why couldn't they all just leave him alone? Like how father leaves him alone?

Why did they have to care, about a pathetic, insignificant insect like himself?

Loki cried out mutely, digging his fingernails into the scalp of his dark, black hair. How he wished he could just rip out his brain and stomp it to the floor, its blood and gush just exploding into the nearby walls.

Loki's anguish rose and rose, like tidal waves taking him down, like a shark erupting from the water and choking back on his fat flesh.

So fat and so ugly and so disgusting. HE was disgusting.

Loki's fingers dug uselessly into his scalp even further, dragging his nails across his innocent flesh, Loki practically screamed soundlessly, trapped there in the bathroom.

And with no one to witness his pain, no one to understand his anguish and self-hatred…it was like he didn't even exist at all.

The dreaded hour of dinnertime had arrived.

Loki sat with the full plate of chicken breast, mashed potatoes and fried rice staring back at him in a nauseating fashion.

Loki could feel his eyes skid across each glossy, oily piece, and he felt his hunger roar to life just as his inner disgust rolled heavily.

Don't you dare eat a piece if you want to get to 120.

Those were his thoughts as he stared blankly down at the food on his plate. How could his body crave such a mess of once preserved flesh and vegetables while that same body was utterly convincing him all the reasons why he should NOT dare to take a bite?

Don't you dare eat a piece if you aren't ready to feel guilty about it for the next three hours.

His brain instructed him sternly, shaking its imaginary hand at him in an authoritative gesture.

Don't you dare eat one morsel on this plate, you disgusting, fat, worthless piece of human shit.

Loki swallowed hard, reflexively. How his brain could create such dark and twisted thoughts was beyond him, and his anxiety about sitting there in front of the plate of food, surrounded by other watchful eyes and more plates of food, wasn't helping the situation, either.

"Loki?"

Someone spoke to him, then, and he quickly raised his eyes, to find his mother's worried glance looking at him.

"Aren't you hungry, my son?" She asked softly, watching him intently.

"No," was his quick reply, nudging around some of the food items with his fork.

Frigga pursed her lips in concern, but didn't bite into the situation beyond that.

She shook her head lightly and said to Loki, "Well, try and eat a bit more, my son."

Loki nodded mutely, feeling his father's eyes boring into his soul.

"After your brother and I cooked such a marvelous meal, it is wasted upon your bated breath," Odin spoke harshly, shaking his head in disapproval.

Granted, could Loki expect anything less from his father?

Frigga shot a warning glare at Odin, communicating her own disapproval at her husband's tone.

"It is all right, my son," Frigga turned to Loki once again, "eat what you can. Maybe you are coming down with a cold?"

Loki nodded mutely again, conceding to the point before Thor opened his mouth next.

"Indeed, brother, you were quite wet the other night when you went outside in the rain."

Loki's eyes darted up like a cat's to his older brother. Really, Thor? He thought to himself in annoyance.

Frigga jerked her head to his elder sibling, then back to Loki.

"Please assure me that you were wearing a coat?" Came her quick question, and by the sound of Loki's silence, she knew he hadn't. "Oh, Loki, you know how prone you are to sickness." Frigga replied quietly, a frown settling in her lips.

Loki shrugged his shoulders, "Maybe I am coming down with something." He bit into a piece of chicken to stop their stares from getting to him, practically choking on the meat itself. "I'll eat a little more but then I must be off to bed."

"Good, rest is good sign," Frigga commented, scooping up some of the chicken's sauce onto the prongs.

Loki nodded, forcing himself to eat bite after bite, nausea sweeping through his system.

With a little under half of his meal consumed, Loki trudged up the stairs once the table discussion had turned again towards Thor. At least, in Thor's attention from their parents, Loki could get away with his secrets locked inside his closet.

Once Loki made it to the bathroom, he promptly discarded the calories he had taken in. While flushing his pain down the drain, the young adolescent felt hopelessness drag down his spirits. He glanced into the mirror, however, and with the angle of the light he appreciated his cheekbones.

Just three more to go, and then, then I'll be perfect.

Before Loki left the bathroom, he caught the malicious glint of the scale behind him, urging him onwards and onwards down his dark, dark path. And, for a moment, he smiled.

Maybe this is what triumph felt like.

A/N: Welcome back, everyone! So, I made this chapter another long one for us all :D Hooray! It lands totally as about 2,900 words, so just onto the 8th page in Word, woot woot! I'll be working on the next chapter likely next Friday-Saturday.

Unfortunately, there's been a death in my family so if things get a little back logged that might be a contributing factor. I'll also be starting a summer class in about a week, so that may cut into some of the longer updates.

However, I'm still no where near giving up on this story. I was actually listening to 'So Alive' by Goo Goo Dolls during this writing process :D I also watched some music videos and clips from the series to get back into understanding the complexities I'm using of Loki's character in this story. I've also thought planned out more of what I want to cover in this story, so that is awesome too. Been having a lot of Avengers themed dreams lately too, ahaha.

Anywho, that's all for now. I'll be cooking up a couple of the next chapters dealing with Loki's cold. Things can only grow darker from here, but they will clean up eventually, as well. I hope you're all enjoying this! And that this chapter tickles your fancy :)

*hugs*!

Chapter written: 7.8 & 7.9.2016

April 2019 A/N: Whoooop, that was a heavy chapter, huh? Oh boy, hope that you enjoyed it in some respects though! Leave me a review with your thoughts and I will eventually reply to them, really! :]

Updated: Timeline detail for sequel. 4/16/20