Distorted & Disordered

Chapter 26

Trigger warning: suicide attempt aftermath, suicide method, feels and eating disorder details

He couldn't necessarily believe it. Even after the third and fifth and twenty second fold and refold and flattening out of the letters Loki had painfully scrawled in shaky handwriting (had he known? Had he known he could have died? Had he wanted to? Had this all just been a lie—that he wasn't okay when he said he was and the betrayal that felt to Thor as the older brother, the older sibling, the source that could see something was terribly wrong (but did he say it? Did he say anything at all?) but he hadn't said anything about it (he should have said everything about it) had these smiles and these muttered laughs, had the love, had the care, had it all been hiding some darker secret? Some darker turn of the heel as the two brothers walked? Had Loki known all along he was going to act on these thoughts? These cruel, cruel thoughts that bled of lies and mistruths, lies that didn't sparkle in the light of day, not to Thor, not to mother, and not to father—but they had sparkled for Loki, hadn't they? They had a shimmer, a shade of iridescence, a metallic clang as the gun clacked back and the shot fired into the air, crushing the limbs and the bones and the tendons and muscles that dared to get in the way.)

Thor shook his head.

He had to snap out of this.

This wasn't about him.

This wasn't about Thor. And for right now, for right now even though he wanted it to be about himself, be about something more tangible and real and hard and true and physical—this was about Loki. This was Loki's fight. Thor… Thor could not wield it. Thor could not fight this battle for him. And it made him exasperated, it made him breathless, it made him pained that he could do so very little but just as Jane had said, had almost even promised, that there was still something Thor and the rest of them could do: be there for Loki. Support him. Ask him how to support him and love him until he can take that truth, that future, that brightness, that hope into his own hands and place it forwards to light up the path his life takes—whichever road that is being up to him.

Thor just wasn't entirely sure how they would all get from here to there.

But he believed in it.

He believed in Loki. Loki could be stronger. Loki could be healthier. Loki could be better. He knew his brother, knew him well, not like mother knew him but Thor still believed in Loki regardless. He knew he was so strong, and he hopes, by the Norns he hopes, that one day Loki would see it all too.

And no matter how dismantled Thor felt in this given moment, no matter how disjointed, no matter how much he struggled to pull himself together to love someone, to care for someone, to have faith in someone so hell bent in self destruction, so intensely fighting within themselves that they lost sight of why they're even fighting in the first place, so worried about what will happen to them (because apparently anything could, at any time, at any moment, by their hand or by another's) and so consumed that Thor felt these emotions and riptides bring him under, under, under down below all the waves and light and Hope—still Thor had to cherish it. Thor still had to grasp it. Thor still had to cradle it.

Because the other alternative, the harsh reality that almost came to be in this dimension, was that Loki would be dead.

And he wasn't dead.

And the very fact that Loki still breathed and lived and existed meant that Thor could hold onto this hope of his brother. He could cling to his belief in him and not of his disorders. He could hold the light, capture it, and let it multiply.

Thor could still hope. Thor could still believe. Thor could still have faith. Because right now Loki couldn't and even though Thor had no idea how he was going to, how he would help—if he even could at all—still Thor knew he had to hope. He had to hold it. And he had to believe that if not now, then tomorrow or the next day or five months from now, then Loki would be strong enough to hold it for himself.

So, no matter how much Thor broke down, no matter how much Thor wondered if he could even be in this fight for the long haul, no matter how much he wanted to run or hide or scream and cry, he would still have faith. He would still have hope.

Because at the end of the day, what else was there?

Even if Loki wasn't family, Thor knew he'd be there through it all. Because they mattered. They mattered so much more than all the stars, they were made up of the ashes of their ancestors, the ashes and combinations of the universe. They had stardust in their veins and their hearts were meant to beat for longer, never shorter. They were worth everything. They were everything and Thor was just a side character living in their world.

So, he cried and when he couldn't any longer, he screamed and when he couldn't do that, he hoped and he feared and he tripped up over all his feelings. And at the end, the letters were a little more worn, a little more torn, and his heart felt shredded like it was placed in a meat grinder and he felt the world spun a little slower and even though he couldn't fathom how he would, he put aside the letters and he crawled his way to his room, sluggishly dragging his foreign limbs, into his bed where he sat and cried again then finally, finally drifted off to sleep.

"I should have died."

The ground may as well have split in two, the gravel rocky and the deep chasms of pain it wrought on such young souls was not missed by either party.

"Loki, I—" Thor protested but his younger sibling cut him off.

"Thor," he said, seriously.

He paused a second but it may as well have been years.

"…." He took and let out a long breath. "I should have died. It was…it was a part of my plan."

Tears welled up in the youngster's eyes.

"But I didn't expect to make it this far. I…I hadn't meant to live beyond that final action. And I didn't mean to hurt you. That wasn't my intention, brother. I just…I just didn't think you'd care. I thought…I thought, maybe foolishly, that you'd be better off without me. That you'd move on. And so would mother. And father would never care to begin with. I thought—" his voice choked up and a short silence befell the brothers.

"Loki," Thor's voice cracked as his own tears spilled forth. "I'm so sorry that you were in so much pain."

He licked broken lips, an echo of his own soul.

"I never would have wished that upon you. Loki, I love you. So, so much. And I'm angry. Not at you, but of your mind. And I'm devastated. I wish my love would be enough. I wish your love of me would be enough.

"But I am slowly accepting that I cannot rule this battle for you. This is not a fight I can manage for you. It breaks me that there is so little I can do to ease your burdens. And if I could, if I can, I will try my hardest. Because you're worth it, Loki. You are worth the world to me, to mother, to so many.

"So, as I learn how to hold the light out for you, please, please learn and teach yourself how to take it in your own palms. Because these feelings are temporary. And the sun—"

"—The sun will rise again." Loki's face broke into one of goodness, one of hope, one of growing meaning.

"I'm more ready to live than I was even yesterday." Loki affirmed. "I should have died, but now all I want to do is live. And maybe that's just for the moment or for forever moments, but, Thor, I want to live. I want to be okay. I want this to be a dream. I don't want this as my reality any longer."

The teenager swallowed gruffly.

"I just…I'm scared. I don't know how to get from here to there."

"I'll show you." Thor said again, suddenly, a sturdy tree in the wind.

It was almost like Loki had forgotten he was even there.

"H-how?" his voice was as small as he felt, as tiny and weightless, as he ever tried to be.

"I have no idea," Thor said truthfully, causing Loki to laugh. Over his brother's chuckles he admonished, "But I will find a way."

"Because I'm worth it?" Loki asked, a mixture of innocence and the capability of believing this assertion could be true.

"Because you're worth it."

"I am?" Mistrust, doubt encircled him.

"Forever and always."

There was a small beat in the conversation.

Loki took in the psych ward around him: the tiles, the walls, the way the phone lay in his palm, the rough chair beneath him and the trails of his peach blanket and the far away laugh of a voice he was beginning to recognize and find a home in.

"I think things are going to be okay." He said, softly and slowly.

Maybe to just himself even; but Thor heard it, too, and he smiled sadly on the other line, his fingers clawing the fabric of his socks and his mind only able to imagine the psych units he'd even seen in horror movies (he had no context yet for them).

And when he went to respond, when a breath formed on his lips, he let himself let it out and let it go because maybe not everything needed to be analyzed. Maybe not everything needed words. Maybe sometimes just being there, and being present, and listening and, and validating, maybe that could mean everything.

So, the two of them sat like that. A lifetime apart, a whole universe away and yet together all the same.

Together despite the gap.

A love so strong it could last a lifetime. And when Loki had to go again, the call didn't end on a goodbye, but rather, a see you later.

Because there would be a later.

Both parties making sure of it (even when things, some things, still felt so shaky. Hope, though, didn't count that as a death sentence. Hope lingered, lasted, and tied everyone down with its brightness and its spirit. Its determination. Its wonder. And maybe, that was all that ever mattered).

"Good."

"Don't you ever feel like you wished you didn't exist?"

"All the time."

Brown eyes implored green.

"I'm serious."

"As am I."

A pink tongue came over cracked lips.

"No, really."

"I agree."

A jerk of the head looked more like a twitch but was really calculated measures of uncovering the truth.

Sometimes, the truth is ugly.

The teenager sighed audibly.

"It just doesn't seem fair."

A pause.

A tentative answer in the forms of: "It's not."

The male counterpart hummed. "It's not." He mulled over his words, as though he were to make a script on his dying day. Like he wanted to get it right. Like maybe that's all that really mattered at that moment.

"You've gone."

It could have been a question but the deadpan in his tone indicated to the other teenager that it wasn't.

A longer pause, a careful formation that seemed unsteady to fall from his lips: "Yes."

"What was it like?" brown eyes faced green, locked in battle, weapons at the ready, shield on his back.

"Hell."

Another hum from the genius.

"It usually is."

The other teen nodded in agreement.

"So, what now?" green eyes searched brown for something they weren't ready to face.

"I guess… we live?"

A scrunched-up expression met his gaze.

"Why would we do that?"

"Because… maybe it matters."

"To whom?"

"To one of us, someday. Maybe," the first teen cleared his throat, fingers grazing the fragments of food dust left on the blank wooden tables, "maybe not for right now, but for that future day, where we want to be here, where we want to live."

"Will it ever come?" a whispered question, caught between breaths, why was it so hard to breathe sometimes?

"Only one way to find out."

Lips got puckered by teeth.

"I don't think I'm ready."

Brown eyes watched green, the way they rolled, the way they sparkled, the way they held so much doubt amongst the faintest flickers of hope. What horrors had they seen? What horrors had they witnessed? And was it any help to hope that one day, one day soon or afar, that they'd find a reason to still be here?

"We never are."

"Shouldn't it stop us? From… from…"

"Trying?" He shrugged. "Maybe." He sighed. "But maybe the other choice is worse." He eyed his peer. "Don't you think?"

A hesitancy emerged within the younger adolescent. He wanted to say no, but he couldn't stop the pain that pierced his heart the moment he thought that maybe, maybe yes, maybe trying for a better day ahead, some elusive, wonderful future day, was worth everything it took to keep breathing and keep surviving and maybe, maybe one day start thriving.

"I guess," he alluded to briefly and the brown eyed teenager nodded.

"Good. I'll take that." He flashed a quick and wide grin and the minute the younger teen saw it he couldn't stop the way his heart melted, and he felt like he had earned something, something more and something ever better than the dropping weights on a scale.

Maybe there was more to life than just pain. Maybe, for now, he could hope there was and try and believe it until something else swayed his vision. For now, he felt mildly giddy at the notion that the world wasn't only black and white and maybe beyond the gray there was a rainbow that lingered and dared to be seen.

Loki felt, for the moment, that that light of multiple colors was worth it. And that made him feel…good. And so he decided then and there he'd try and hold onto that faith for as long as he could because maybe it meant more to him than he could have ever imagined for himself. And maybe it would hold him over for a while yet.

Slender fingers bumped to a rhythm upon his knee. The bouncing of his legs hadn't let up and the teenager was eagerly and desperately waiting for the line at the small pay phone-like area to ease, falter and wane but so far it was looking rather bleak.

Loki sighed through gritted teeth. "How in the world…?" He began and he never quite finished, as was most things these days.

"Loki?"

A foreign voice piped up from behind him.

The teen caught himself between a yelp and a fast-lurching turn to eyeball the stranger behind him, as Loki was leaning by the nurse's station.

"You're Loki, right?" They asked again and hazel eyes looked perplexed for a moment, confused as to whom they were looking at and if they had the right patient or not.

He shuddered in the veil of a nod.

"Oh, okay, great! Mind if we meet for a moment?" She smiled at him and clarified, "I'm Karlie, the nutritionist."

Loki huffed in response, though it was one of interest, not that Karlie could entirely decipher it since she wasn't in his mind. It was almost like a little secret between himself and…himself. Loki rolled his eyes, okay, maybe he'd gotten too used to his own company which meant he was failing at social interactions now.

Loki trailed after Karlie and entered a small meeting room where another occupant was found residing in.

There, a man with black hair peppered with white, blue eyes fair and complexion a vanilla almond, sat with a satisfied smile and over eager approach—indicated by his elbows at the edge of a long table and a small pile of papers in front of him.

The teen immediately swept across a curious and nearly threatening gaze to the stranger until they held out their hand and said, "Hi, Loki. My name is Dr. Platinium. I'm the medical doctor on this unit. Do you mind if we speak for a moment?"

Loki, eyes still assessing gravely, made only a small nod and buried the rest of the conversation into his subconscious—still too delicate, too fragile to accept everything that was happening around him, all at once. A defense mechanism, it would seem to him, later.

"I don't exist right now."

Green eyes glared into brown…then blue…then brown again—but a different brown than before.

"How do you mean?" Asked the blue.

Green irises flicked to their holder.

A small silence fell wetly on the tabletop.

"I…I can't explain it. It's just this feeling. This can't be my life. I can't be here. I don't want to be here. What if I'm—?"

"Here forever?" Brown eyes quirked at the edges as a small laugh seeped out. "Poor thing's thinking he'll be here forever."

Green flipped to blue that had brows plunged together and the last set of brown eyes without any brows above that softened as a tone of voice peeked out of the surface, "They won't keep you that long. Not if you don't need it."

Green eyed lips frowned.

"And if I need it?"

"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it."

The teenager huffed in response. "I can't get anywhere with you guys." He folded his arms and pouted.

Tony's eyes glowed as he remarked, "Heh, it's a locked unit anyhow."

Steve smirked—but he tried to hide it and act all diplomatically—and Bruce was shimmying his head from side to side, mildly impressed with the accuracy.

'He's not wrong' was the statement Loki gathered by the teen from his body language and even he couldn't help but find the twisted humor in it.

"Okay," Tony slapped his hands together, the sudden noise making the younger teen jerk back in unanticipated surprise. "It's time we play a game."

"A game?" came Loki's incredulous reply.

"A game." Tony affirmed. "The ole name how you're feeling game. The more brutal the honesty, the better."

He glanced at each of his peers in mock—or actual—challenge.

"Who's ready?"

"I feel numb." Loki supplied so quickly that this time he felt shocked.

"Good," Tony replied. "I feel overly self-critical."

"Mmm," Loki mused behind tight lips.

"I feel like people can't tell if I'm angry because I don't have any eyebrows right now."

Tony grinned good-naturedly at his friend. "And how does that make you feel?"

Bruce rolled his eyes, sighing with an "Angry." He paused. "Yet understanding."

"I don't feel real." Steve was whispering in suit. His eyes were downcast, avoiding the glances from his friends as he continued in a small voice, "I can't tell the difference between what is real and what is not. So, I don't think I'm real and this isn't really happening… like, it's happening to someone else but miles away from me." His eyes mirrored a deep sadness. He looked up, tentatively at his friends, who had grim smiles and nodded in some understanding. Although he knew they wouldn't ever fully understand… he felt mildly comforted that they were trying. Sometimes, just having someone try to, could be enough.

Loki bit his lip. "They want me to gain weight." His eyes shifted down then up towards Steve. "And I don't want to, but, I guess, I need to." He was saying the words before he ever even realized he was: "They have our best interests in mind. Maybe there are some things you don't have to face alone."

He paused, surprising himself. He ran a shaky hand through his hair, still engrossed in the lessons he'd been taught and the ever so frightening notion that he was going to have to eat and eat soon and he wasn't a fan of that at all and didn't know how he was going to get to that within this entire process.

Tony grazed a hand over his shoulder, so quickly it might not have even happened. "It's okay. You're not alone, either."

When Loki, vulnerable and small, looked over to the teenager, he wasn't expecting to find compassion and another bright spot there. But, but he did. And that warmed his insides more than he ever thought possible. And while he wanted to voice the very real concerns that these peers had landed in him a hope and a hesitancy to believe that they were truly going to be there for him going forwards, he found he couldn't quite manage to say the words.

Because maybe it was okay to just experience the moment as the moment and then to wade through the tough moments to make it to the brighter moments. He didn't want to push them away or do anything to make them think less of him; but he also didn't know why they were thinking so highly of himself and his abilities than they were already.

So, while he felt pain and he felt sadness and longing, he also felt joy and being seen and something in that catharsis brought him so much more healing than he ever could have imagined. While he wanted to savor every last piece, he knew also that he hadn't even quite begun to manage getting more food in his system yet, and the thought was daunting and terrifying and, still, he found himself breathing and thinking and feeling (even if he wasn't really feeling right now) and that gave him something, something more than he'd felt in a long time.

And so, there was hope.

There was hope and there was light; and Loki was finally toying with the idea that maybe he did deserve both of those things. And maybe these new friends, if everything went all right, maybe they'd pave a new road ahead of him than he could have ever possibly dreamt of.

So, he smiled back, a small smile, and felt himself and his soul grow larger, because maybe he deserved to take up space. And maybe things would be okay.

For once, it felt okay to wish for that and it felt okay to hold that in his hands, let alone in his heart and soul.

A/N: Why hello there! I'm still alive. And this story IS still ONGOING. So, the majority of this chapter I actually wrote in 2021 but over the last couple of years, I've been deeply struggling with perfectionism and so it got tossed onto the back burner for many months because it wasn't coming out "perfectly" or worthily enough for an update. Soooo, cue me not touching it for a long time (ALU has also fallen into this trap, but I am in progress with a new chapter for that story, more on that in a few).

Alsoooo, in the last year, I started working at the actual psych hospital this fictional story is based on (at least layout-wise) back on Oct 18th 2021 and I'm soooo much happier in my job, although it's a psych hospital too so that makes things VERY interesting hahah. When I joined Reddit in 2022's Oct, that actually helped me a LOT because since then I've been active on some fanfic related threads and I've gotten myself to challenge some of that perfectionism and get myself plopping out updates for stories (and in Dec I've started 2 new House MD fics, yay branching out!).

This chapter is also particularly unique because I wrote, for the first time in my life, things out of order. There were a few scenes that I wrote one day in advance and then had to fit the rest of the chapter around it later. In fact, last year, I actually wrote the official ending of this story in advance. AND, I can without a doubt say that this story will be a trilogy. PLUS I also have the two spin-offs to write in the future, one where Loki does die by suicide and how that impacts/changes everybody else's life and one where he asks for help BEFORE he attempts. Then the sequel and then the final story set which will travel across different ages at different times. It's a whole thing, clearly.

But yeah, the BIG scene that got me stuck for so long was Loki meeting Dr. Platinium. I had NO idea how to handle that and thus, just avoided it for months. Someone, I believe on AO3, gave me an idea on how to work through that (make it into a flashback later) and that was genuinely something I hadn't considered at all so that was SUPER helpful and is what I wound up going for.

Since it's post-Christmas (and this fic will be capturing those major holidays in the future, too) I still wanted to update this story as, just, well, I'm still alive, I'm still writing and there will be more updates to come in the future. I plan to update another story BEFORE the end of 2022, so let's all cross our fingers and toes for that to happen hahaha. I have these stories in progress: One of my new House fics (DWYPLH), ALU, CeC, NT (this one I DO plan to update before the end of the year) annnnnd yeah, I think that's all I have for now.

SO, as always, thank you SO MUCH for reading! I hope that you enjoyed this and I will be continuing this story into the future. I hope everyone has a good and safe New Year's upcoming and I'll see you again not three years from now but within the next 6 months. Thank you all! All feedback really helps so feel free to leave it as a little nugget to encourage me. Stay safe!

Written in 2021: 6.20, 10.2, 11.29, 11.30, 12.1, 12.2, 12.7, 12.23.

Written in 2022: 2.1, 2.21, 12.26.2022

Editing: 11.30.22, 12.25-12.26.22

Background music at times: "Exit Wounds" by The Script; "Dynasty" by MIIA; "I ain't worried" by OneRepublic; "Preach" by Jessie Paege

PS, I don't think I mentioned it and I forgot this was a factor, too, there were a few times over the course of 2021 and even 2022 that I full-on couldn't write creatively. In fall 2021, I nearly lost a loved one to suicide so it made another really weird encounter of art mimicking life and yeah. It was tough. I got through it, and they did too, though it did influence my writing within this story (that phone call between Thor and Loki being the first scene I wrote after it happened. Even just Thor reading through Loki's suicide notes was tough). I'm no longer in contact with that loved one but yeah. That was just something that happened last year that I had to cope with. This story is the largest one I've written thus far and just about the only one that has detailed notes on each chapter for what I covered in it to make it a SMIDGE bit easier to re-read and write again after I take months at a time breaks hahaha. I'll work on making sure the next update happens sooner than later, too, though any thoughts on the work would certainly help me edge closer to publishing the next one. I have a general outline to refer back to but yeah, anything you guys want to see added or see played out would be super helpful! No rush, though. I'll make sure this gets updated in 6 months as long as Life doesn't get all weird on me again hahaha. Look out for updates on some of my other stories! :D