Distorted & Disordered

Chapter 21

**Trigger Warning:** Stigma

It was late by the time the two males arrived back home. Jane's offered food continued to lie untouched in its Styrofoam box. Neither man had felt the stomach to eat so away they crawled back into the cool cocoons of their beds.

But try as they might, neither could sleep.

Odin lay awake on his back with one eye staring up at the blank darkness of his ceiling while Thor couldn't hear his father's loud snores and shifted back and forth restlessly, trying to find comfort where there was none.

Loki? Loki? Loki? His brain thought over and over again, bringing up painful, painful memories: the time Loki wailed so loudly when he'd fallen off his bike; his isolation from Thor's friends; him whispering how much he loved Thor; his body lying helplessly in a foreign bed alone and unconscious, unable to tear from his intubation tube and scream that Thor had merely been fooled.

He groaned in exasperation, shoving his palms into his eyelids and moaning his brother's name over and over again in an attempt to get him out. Maybe if he thought of his brother enough his mind would cease its relentless chatter like when a song was stuck in your head and listening to it would get it to stop churning forwards.

Thor growled despite himself and gave up until he fell asleep around two in the morning out of pure exhaustion. Until then, he thought of every mistake he'd made to Loki, every miniscule moment that would have led to a different outcome. He strangled himself out of his guilt and grief and they hadn't even lost Loki yet. His breath hitched and his throat felt like it was closing up.

Loki would make it through this, right?

Right?

His sleep was broken into segments of nightmares and re-awakenings. And down the hall, as the clock ticked to two, Odin had sat up in bed with his nightstand lamp switched to on. Yellow light bathed his living quarters and he felt his skin crawl as his fingers instinctively climbed under the softness of his pillowcases to the letters hidden safely beneath.

The curiosity was killing him.

What had his second son wrote? What was going through his mind in the days leading up to this outrageous event? Were there clues all along? Warning signs? Was there something he not only missed but Thor and Frigga as well?

If he couldn't sleep, if the treachery of his held tight breaths and the uncertainty behind every decision he made was enough to go by, Odin knew he had to read them.

He knew it was time for him to face the repercussions of his actions.

It wasn't just Loki going through this-it was all of them.

He couldn't help but feel slighted-didn't Loki know he was a sinking ship bringing everyone on board down with him?

Odin sat rigid and upright in his bed, unfolding the letter towards Thor first. His eye gazed over the text as emotion arose within his soul that he never knew could ever exist.

Was this what Jimmie had felt all those years ago? Was this the same pain playing out in his youngest? Would Loki survive this? Or would he be another life lost to this cruel world?

Odin muffled a cry of anguish, fearing his emotions and more of where they would lead him next. It wasn't within the breath of a man to cry. But even Odin's certainty of this thought wavered.

Was this the attitude that Loki bristled to? Was…was Odin the sole problem here? Where…where did Loki's issues generate themselves from?

In anger, Odin scrunched the letter with a resounding pop. He dropped it to the comforter without a second thought and with little guilt that he had wrecked and wrinkled Loki's penmanship.

Frigga was a good mother. Odin tried to set an example for his sons of what a man should be. It couldn't possibly be their fault that something went wrong with Loki. Thor turned out all right. Maybe it was a genetic thing but surely not an environmental one.

Or maybe-maybe it had no real roots.

Sometimes that happens. Sometimes people are just given the shit stick in life and are expected to live with it.

Odin unfurled the next letter-his.

After reading it once, Odin was not pleased.

Loki's letter this time rang with anger, bitterness and spite. He felt, for a brief moment, the carelessness that was within his words when he had spoken them aloud for his sons to hear.

Was this an indication of how Loki felt towards him? Did the boy hear only what he wanted to hear? How had they strayed so far away from one another?

Odin sighed, uncomfortable with uncovering so many of his own character flaws.

He only ever tried to do right by his sons and jobs like this didn't often get the praise and recognition they should.

Next, Odin unfolded Frigga's note.

Upon reading Loki's scrawl, Odin felt the palpable pain through his written words again. His brows creased in suspicion. The most that Loki had opened up to was his wife. He knew they had a close relationship but he would have figured he'd share his pain with his father, even Thor, more than he had in their designated letters.

Odin was just as much a parental figure to Loki that Frigga was. He was mildly aware of how petty he was being but the whole letter read so differently than his.

Loki would need to learn how to come to Odin for help, too. Maybe he could teach his son this for the duration of time between his regaining consciousness and his eventual and unavoidable psych evaluation.

Loki needed to learn how to talk about his feelings. Frigga wasn't always going to be there. If he needed the lesson at all at any point of his life, it was definitely now.

Odin placed the letters back under his pillow and shut off the light. The last thing he thought before he fell asleep were Thor's words pointing out that Loki had reached out to father in his last moments of awareness.

Given what the elder man had just read, maybe this was more of a significant feat than he had considered at the time.

Maybe it meant that the both of them could change.

However, Odin felt that much more right in his idea of keeping these matters from his wife for now. He knew he was doing what was right…

For yourself, the whisper came, but as usual, he ignored it.

He woke up a few moments before father did.

The house was eerily quiet and Thor had a feeling that it was this unnerving sensation that had woken him up.

Without Loki the world fell into silence.

Fresh tears that Thor hadn't realized could still be locked away behind his eyes came forth, sprinkling his cheeks with fluid and shaking his shoulders in angst.

Oh, how Thor ached for his brother to come home again. He longed for Loki to get better and felt so small and alone when compared with the darkness and silence lying ahead of the entire family.

How had things gotten so bad so fast?

Was there anything Thor could ever do to repair the damage that was wrought upon their relationship?

His breathing became ragged as snot dribbled from his already reddened nose.

"Oh, Loki. Loki, no." He whimpered softly beneath his breath even when his chest threatened to burst.

Was this even an inkling of the pain Loki had been harboring?

He shook his head ferociously when the thoughts questioning why his younger sibling never came to him for help, for reassurance, for confidence began to trickle into his awareness. It was better not to dwell on these currently unanswerable questions.

Thor took deep breaths, sniffling, reminding himself of the conversation he and Jane had had in the car.

"I can do this. We're going to get through this. There's still time to make things right. I won't give up on you, Loki. I refuse to."

He reminded himself that he had to be strong for Loki. He had to be strong so that when his brother came back, he could lean on him and be assured that Thor could bear his weight. Thor could bear his pain and his struggles. Thor would be there for him even when he didn't want his older sibling to be.

Thor would be there.

And maybe that was all that Loki ever wanted.

"Father, I really think you should reconsider," Thor advised below his breath, chin nearly resting on his chest. He'd been avoiding looking directly at Odin for fear that the elder man would reproach him for his tear-stained cheeks and red, bleary eyes.

"And I've told you, Thor, going to school is best for you. What would you be achieving at home alone? At least in school you will be among friends and among distractions to keep you busy. At home, you won't be. You need to get your mind off of your brother. There is little we can do without him here." Odin gazed over at his eldest with some basic form of understanding. "It will be all right, my son." He allowed for a break in silence, measuring how uncomfortable Thor looked in his seat. "It's time now." He said, unlocking the car doors for Thor to step out.

Thor didn't move, however.

Odin sighed in exasperation. "What is it now?" he asked impatiently, rolling his eye and slapping his hands on the steering wheel.

Thor automatically flinched, holding his breath before deciding glumly, "Nothing. See you later." He abruptly opened the car door and swung out, mindful of his foot. He slammed it closed, harder than necessary, to convey his sudden distaste for his father. He didn't look back as he made his way into the high school.

In contrary to what he'd told Thor, Odin decided to spend his day alone at the house. He cleaned and tidied up, reorganizing the spices in the kitchen and cleaning the dust off the TV screens. Next, he called into Domino's for pizza and spent the late morning eating three slices and saving the rest in the oven for Thor when he would arrive back home.

He didn't think as much about Loki as he feared he might, even being able to answer a few emails for work on his laptop and send a few messages to his friends to check-in on them over social media. He may have been old but he wasn't as out of touch with technology as his sons might think.

He was gearing towards a nap, as he hadn't slept well the night before, when he realized Thor would be arriving home soon. He yawned and his face contorted in shock at the time staring back at him. He hadn't figured time would move as fast as it had. He felt mildly unfulfilled but hoped that his efforts to make things appear as normal and ordinary as possible would trick his mind into believing it were so.

He wasn't all that surprised to realize it hadn't worked. He let out a long breath he'd been holding and shifted gears for the night ahead: it would be long and it would be taxing. He hoped the two of them would make it through.

He had no way of knowing that the other members of his family were having sinking emotions at the same time as he. He had no way of knowing that Frigga would be deciding to call earlier in the night than usual because of the deep knot in her stomach and the heaviness in her heart. She knew something was wrong and she knew at the same time that she had meetings to attend to and didn't have the chance to investigate her concerns as well as she would have liked.

But she sent her youngest a text. A simple:

Thinking of you, Loki. I love you.

And she went back to work, a frown evident on her lips as a nagging feeling entered her frame of vision. Something was wrong but she didn't know what. Things weren't right. She swallowed back her fear and re-entered her meeting.

At the house, Loki's phone chimed but no one was there to hear it. No one was ever there to notice.

"Thor!" It was Sif then who ran up to the strong teen.

She brushed a hand along his shoulder, feather light and barely even perceptible. She'd been casting long, worried glances his way all day but her friend seemed to be out of it throughout every class.

During lunch he had stared sadly at the tabletop, not jesting in jokes or seeming to pay much attention at all. She and Fandral had tried to engage him but he hadn't seemed to hear them.

Once in study hall she had seen him openly, albeit quietly, weeping to himself. Her concern then had grown to an immeasurable amount.

She'd managed to catch up to him after he'd been leaning onto Jane by her locker at the last bell. Now they were just beginning to head out the doors of their high school.

"Are you all right?" she immediately blurted out, her long brown hair falling into her brown eyes until she pushed it back. "You've been unusually quiet all day. That's not like you," she looked around frantically. "Where's Loki? Was he in today?"

Thor gazes up at her sadly, his blue eyes marred with a deep sadness she had never seen him possess before.

Is this what Loki felt not having friends to notice his pain?

He broke out in an uncontrollable sob, embracing Sif so tightly she puckered her lips for a breath that didn't come.

In her dismay, she moaned out that she couldn't exactly breathe and Thor's grip on her immediately loosened.

"I'm sorry," Thor mumbled, tears coming down his face as he held her.

"What happened?" she asked with her own emotion clogging her throat.

Thor sniffled, biting his lip anxiously as he pulled away from her.

"I don't know if I should say," he said slowly, anxiety gripping his heart constrictively.

"It's often better to talk about it," Sif administered wisely. She tore a hand through her hair, adding, "Only if you want to, though."

Thor smiled briefly, shaking his head before supplying, "It's Loki. He…he's unwell." He'd whispered softly.

"Is he sick?" Sif made a face. "You know how he's always getting the flu." She jostled him lightly but frowned when Thor didn't laugh or break face. "Thor?"

"He-he tried to-" Thor sighed, looking carefully at his friend. "Please don't tell anyone, especially Fandral. You know how he can't keep a secret."

Sif narrowed her warm brown eyes before nodding, realizing this was very serious territory. Thor had only ever asked for confidentiality when confiding in Sif that Mandy like-liked Fandral but Thor had promised not to tell the male teen. Fandral wasn't the greatest at keeping things on the down low.

Thor settled on a low whisper, revealing, "My…my brother tried to kill himself."

Sif's face contorted into confusion at first, thinking she had misheard him.

"He what?" she asked shortly after, eyes lowered to the floor to better hear Thor's repeated words.

Thor initially flinched, having to undergo this torment for a second time when the first time was more than enough and he could feel himself mentally reeling.

"Loki tried to end his life." His words were told in a stronger voice, then, but inside he was crippling and shattering into thousands of pieces. What was this new hell he had found himself surrounded in?

Sif immediately paled three shades lighter than her usual complexion. She gasped, her eyes widening as her mouth hung agape.

"No, you must be mistaken!" She cried out, trying to cling to an ounce of denial even as her blood ran cold and she felt a little faint.

Her eyes watered to their own accord as she pulled Thor into an unexpected hug.

"I'm so sorry, Thor," she whispered, cradling the back of his head as she stood up on her tippy toes.

Thor wiped a few stray tears from his face at her reaction.

"I just don't know what to do," he cooed softly, the world around him blurring.

"I…I don't either," Sif answered honestly, pulling away from the teenager before he really wanted her to.

"How is he? Is he-?" Sif looked lost as she stared into Thor's blue eyes and, if she were being honest with herself, so did he.

"He's in the ICU, a coma they said." Thor looked back at her with heaviness in his heart that he wished upon no other man.

"How did he-?" Sif began, timidly. Were these the questions you asked someone going through this type of trauma? Or was it better to keep it to yourself?

"An overdose," Thor supplied robotically because really he didn't know how to have these conversations either.

"Oh," Sif murmured, eyes still shining with tears. "I'm sorry, Thor." She offered again, resting a hand on either of his shoulders.

"So am I," Thor said gravely. "So am I."

His phone buzzed in his pocket then and he knew it was father, wondering where he was. He let out the breath he'd been keeping in his throat for what felt like decades and slung his backpack back onto his shoulder.

"I have to go," Thor mentioned, almost to no one in particular.

"Okay," Sif agreed, hesitating before saying, "I'll pray for him."

Thor looked back up at her so fast he got a little dizzy.

"Thank you, Sif." He replied, before the itchiness got to him that he should tell her what father had been planning. The whole Operation: Don't Tell Frigga thing, that is. He'd been feeling so glum and down throughout the day and it had been gnawing at his stomach lining for hours.

He knew it wasn't right, but he felt as powerless as powerless could be. Didn't father have the best intentions for them? Or were Loki's suspicions right all along?

Thor didn't know, he didn't have the answers, and with so much of the unknown ahead of them, he just wanted to be held and hugged and loved. And he knew his mother could provide that to him, but she wasn't here, and he slightly resented her for that. She was supposed to have all the answers, she was supposed to know about the unknown and be there for them when they needed it.

But she hadn't been, and Thor wasn't sure if he could exactly forgive her for that. Not…not yet, at least.

He only wanted for Loki to be as hugged and loved and held as himself. And he was pretty sure that's innately what Loki wanted for himself as well.

His eyes flicked lazily back to the floor as he watched the tile transition into grass then into the dark gray flooring of his father's car.

He couldn't help but feel weighed down and desperate for relief. He hated having these burdens to which he felt he could speak of to no one. It was hard enough trying to get through this without mother physically present; it was even harder to conceive the notion of purposefully keeping her in the dark rather than facing her wrath head-on.

But father was the adult here, so maybe, maybe he knew what he was doing.

That's the lie Thor decided to convince himself of that night at least.

And for a little while, it helped…for a little while.

They had just arrived back home after the ICU's visiting hours when the home telephone rang. Odin sprung to his feet from the living room to answer it while Thor stared blankly at the wall opposite him.

"Hello?" he faintly heard his father ask into the receiver before he heard a small shout and his mother's voice came fumbling out of the speakerphone.

"My boys!" Frigga exclaimed happily, still feeling that sense of dread she couldn't piece together for the life of her. "How are you?"

"We are well," Odin supplied hastily, and Thor's eyes followed him as he lightly paced, avoiding all the squeaky floorboards that he must have been aware might raise slight alarm in his wife.

"And Thor?" Frigga asked, addressing the elder boy.

"I'm okay," Thor answered, quietly.

Odin shot him a dirty look.

"And Loki? I haven't heard from him, I texted him earlier but he didn't respond. Is he all right? I've had this nasty feeling about him all throughout the day, how is he holding up?" She rambled in a rush, uncertainty and doubt clinging to her very soul.

"He's fine," Odin replied, shifting a gaze towards Thor as he blurted out, "Just been sleeping a lot. Catching up on old assignments and being a gracious pest. We love him, though. Speaking of, he'll be excited to see you again soon. When is your plane coming in?"

Thor shuddered, the upbeat tone of voice and the weariness father's gaze held towards Thor made his skin crawl.

How could he so eagerly lie to his wife like this? If this were so easy for him to do, what else did he lie about?

Thor felt drained and exhausted. It'd been a long day and the doctors hadn't offered much advice for Loki's condition, other than he was stabilizing out but would need further treatment soon. They didn't even know how bad his condition was for sure, not without him being conscious.

After hearing that mother intended to be home on Friday, Thor stumbled to his bedroom and shoved the pillows over his ears to block out the laughter he heard from Odin downstairs and the racing thoughts that zoomed by in his skull.

He was so done with this, so done with everything. Where was the reset button when he needed it? How could he escape from this living nightmare? He couldn't help but scream into his pillow then, all his energy sputtering out of him like an old hose with rips and tears.

He wanted out, he wanted solace and peace.

Why was this so difficult to find?

He exhaled loud and hard, almost wishing to hit himself in the head so that he'd fall asleep quicker.

He shoved aside his backpack instead, turned out his light and hoped sleep would overtake him.

He didn't exactly get his wish but it was better than nothing.

His sense of time was significantly warped. He could barely make out conversation around him and everything felt as though he were living in a bubble. It sounded far away; far, far away. Gurgled words, almost.

He couldn't open his eyes but he was vaguely aware of his body. It felt heavy and burdensome.

When he was able to open his eyes, their green glow blinked back the brightness of the white hot lights.

It was…unfamiliar.

He didn't recognize where he was.

Where was he?

His brain felt sluggish, slow and intelligible.

There was no clock in the room so he couldn't tell what time it was. He felt…scared. Lost. Insignificant.

If he was waking up that meant….that meant it hadn't worked.

He was still alive.

Somehow that felt like the best and worst thing to ever realize.

His memory was foggy but he was certain he had reached out to someone before he passed out. He just couldn't remember who.

He tried to move around but there was a tube down his throat and just when he almost started to panic, someone in white came into his room.

She had bleach blonde hair scattered around her face as she said from her tunnel, "I'm going to remove the tube now."

She told him to cough and he tried to do as she asked, sputtering and expelling the tube from his mouth.

She asked him questions and he tried to answer them.

"It's Thursday, November 16th. You've been in a coma for two days following an overdose. We'll call your family to tell them about your condition and when you're stabilized further we'll move you to psych where you'll get evaluated. Do you have any questions?" Her sky blue eyes reminded him of Thor.

He shook his head.

He just wanted mother there to tell him everything was going to be okay.

He sighed, looking at all the machines around him before uttering quietly in a tired voice, "Fuck."

A/N: Well, hello there! It's been a little while!

I actually wrote this chapter a mini outline that I stuck well with and it's a bit longer by a couple pages than usual, so, you're welcome! XD I hope it was worth the wait!

I also want to say a major thank you to everyone who has visited this story, written me reviews, and followed/favorited it! It means soooo much and I'm so happy this story is finally getting more traction than how it was looking at first. The amount (or lack thereof) of traction will never sway me from finishing a story, although it definitely helps to keep me motivated and playing with all these characters! The Avengers are soon to appear, hooray! I bet you can guess how, huh? :]

I don't know how accurate the tube taking out is but let's pretend it's okay. Also, if you're curious, the timeline is essentially being set in 2017.

I don't know if I mentioned it in my last A/N of a different story or not, but I did secure myself a job which may limit my free time a little but probably not massively, so that's something! If anything, I probably won't be able to spend HOURS on Youtube, which will mean I have more time to write, which is great! Hoping to start the next chapter soon and re-immerse myself into other stories to update!

Thank you all so much for reading!

Songs listened to while writing: "Hold On" by Chord Overstreet and "You Say" by Lauren Daigle

Sending you all love. xxx

Written: 6/3, 6/4, 6/16, 6/17/2019

A/N Written: 7/4/19

UPDATED: I fixed some timeline issues 4/16/20