xlv. the aftermath
Thor has never been so scared before, he thinks. Loki is an unmoving figure in his bed, covered by four thick blankets, a comforter, and a pile of pillows. Thor sneaks a peek every now and then, hoping to see a sign of movement, of life, but each time he is disappointed.
But Loki looks almost...angelic this way, surrounded by all the white. His hands are clasped on his chest; it looks too final, so Thor shifts them into a position that makes it look like Loki is sleeping.
Yes, that's it. His little brother is sleeping.
Thor's hands tremble at his side as he paces heavily back and forth the length of their room. He tries to forget the way Loki's skin felt so cold. He thinks he might have seen some hints of blue on Loki's lips, too, but he convinces himself that it's because of the odd lighting.
How long had Loki been out, anyway? Surely not too long, right? Loki was - is, Thor amends, he's still here, so that's an is - smart. Once he realized Thor was not coming, he would have gone home. He would not have stayed out there long enough to get something like hypotherm-
"Thor?"
The quiet, raspy syllable comes from somewhere on the bed. In an instant, Thor is at the bedside, pushing pillows away to get a clear view of his brother.
Loki's hand knocks into his. Thor notes, with a surge of relief, that it does not feel so cold any more.
"Loki," he utters, a little breathlessly, and he is hit with a sudden speechlessness. What could he say? "How long," he begins, and has to swallow and start again lest his voice crack, "how long were you out there?"
The greens of Loki's eyes disappear as he closes them once more, and Thor starts, fearing Loki will drift again. But Loki does not. His little brother does not.
"Where's Mama?" The boy's voice is barely audible.
"They're- They're not home yet. Loki, please answer me." Thor clasps a small hand between his, feels the bones beneath the skin, marvels at how frail they feel.
Loki shifts, and he opens his eyes again. They are wet. "Thirsty," he says, voice small and young and pleading. "Can I- Brother, please, can I have water?"
"Answer me first," says Thor firmly. He has to know; he has to think of an explanation to offer; he has fears that need to be proven false-
The first tear escapes Loki's eye, rolling down a pale cheek. "Thor-"
"Answer me."
"I don't know." The hand that Thor is holding slips away, and then he is holding nothing.
"Why were you out there in the first place?" Thor asks, and this time his voice is not as patient. Guilt tugs at the edges of his conscience, but it isn't strong enough to stop him from reaching out and grabbing Loki's arm, asking, demanding.
"I was waiting for you," Loki cries out, more tears coming now. He struggles vainly against Thor's hold, pleading to be let go, for Thor to stop, that hurts, I can't feel my arm, words some times punctuated by sobs. "That's all you care about, isn't it," he says, cheeks red and eyes just as, puffy from crying. "You don't care about me, not any more, you don't want to get in trouble."
"That's not-"
"That's the only reason you came for me," Loki continues, voice cracking, "because you didn't want Mother or Father to be angry. You don't care that I nearly died-"
"That's not true," Thor says firmly, never relinquishing his grip. "And second, you didn't almost die, so quit overreacting."
"Yes I did," Loki sniffs angrily. "But you wouldn't know, would you, because you-"
"Because I wasn't there?" Thor cuts in. "Is that what you were going to say? I wouldn't know because I wasn't there?" His eyes flash, and he could feel it, this ugly feeling boiling in the pit of his stomach, anger and spite and hurt. How dare Loki think he did not care for him, how dare Loki think that he did not go door to door to door to door asking if anyone saw his little brother, because he did, he worried, he panicked, he cared. "Well then," he hisses, "why don't I leave you outside again?" It is an easy task to haul Loki out of bed. "This time I'll watch, I'll even time it, and we'll see if you really did come close to d-"
"No!" Loki shrieks, so loudly that Thor fears the neighbors heard. His brother continues with a litany of no's and please's and I'm sorry's, but doesn't stop struggling, digging his nails into Thor's forearm, kicking at him.
Thor lets go of his arm, and Loki tumbles from the bed with a thump. As soon as he hits the floor, the boy crawls backwards frantically until his back hits their dresser and he stays there, arms up in front of himself. Thor takes a step, and he hears, uttered between sobs and hiccups: "Please don't hurt me, Thor."
Thor recoils as if he was struck, even though the only other person with him is sitting there, defenseless.
There's a glaring bruise across Loki's arm.
Abruptly, Thor drops to his knees. The feelings in his stomach cease their churning, and it seems like the anger, having done its job, leaves his body in an exhale. "Loki?" says Thor, carefully. It elicits a flinch from his younger brother; so he adds, almost desperately, "I won't hurt you, Loki, I promise."
It all seems to crash down on him then, what he said and what he did. The bruise is the shape of a hand. A brute's hand. One that, if he were to hold Loki's arm again, would match his perfectly.
Disgust swells in his chest, and it's towards himself.
He leaves Loki alone, because that's all he can think of doing. There's nothing stronger than the urge to reach out and envelope his brother into his arms, soothe him - but then he remembers how hard he gripped, the words he said, and represses that urge. He does not trust himself to be able to make this all better.
So he tucks a blanket around Loki's shoulders (and even then he is careful to touch him as minimally as possible). Then Thor leaves and waits in the living room until their parents finally come home. They rouse him from where he is "asleep" on the couch, and when he shuffles into his room, Loki is lying in his own bed, facing the wall.
"How did the picnic go?" his mother inquires softly, so as to not disturb her youngest son.
"Well," Thor says tersely. His eyes flicker to Loki, but he can tell by the slow, steady rise and fall of his shoulders that he's asleep. Come morning, if Loki will decide to spare their parents a different story (the truth), then Thor will accept that. For now, he likes to imagine that the night went as it should have: he and Loki went on a picnic, they played together, and afterwards they ate the peanut butter and jelly sandwiches that Loki had meticulously prepared.
"I'm glad to hear that." His mother's tone is reflective of something like pride. "Now, you should go to bed before it gets too late."
But Thor stays up for the longest of times, watching Loki's back, wondering when his little brother will get up, slip out of bed, and sneak across the room to crawl into his. Like he always has.
Loki does not.
. . .
xlvi. a memory
Once, Thor's friends deigned to let Loki in on their games. "Fine then," Fandral finally relents. "Here, Sif, pass me the crown, would you?"
Loki stood by his brother's side, wringing his hands as he watched Fandral accept the kitschy plastic crown. Fandral instructed him to wear it, and Loki gladly complied, eager to please some potential friends.
"It suits you," Sif said.
"Better than it did Sif," Fandral jibed and subsequently earned himself an elbow to the ribs.
"Can't we play now?" Volstagg raised his toy sword high into the air. "I feel like slaying dragons!"
They had dragged a chair to the middle of the yard, and Loki was told to sit upon it. Many questions were on the tip of his tongue - who will I fight? Can I have a weapon too? What are we fighting for? - but the others immediately launched into their little fantasy, and there was no time for inquiry.
So Loki watched, not quite understanding the game but smiling nonetheless, because he feared they would not want to play with him after all. The boy with dark hair (Hogun, Loki thought his name was) stalked around the chair with fingers curled into mock claws, giving a few roars now and then. A few minutes later, Thor and the others charged him, and some great battle seemed to commence.
They all looked rather silly, running around in their makeshift costumes. Loki observed quietly from his chair, occasionally reaching up to steady his crown. Yes, they all looked silly, maybe except Thor. His brother looked the least ridiculous, as he only had a red sheet tied around his neck and a toy sword in hand.
"Guys?" Loki spoke up. Thor "struck" Hogun on his head, and their dragon crumpled to his knees with one last great roar.
Loki straightened, wondering if this was where he would finally come in - but then Hogun went still, and the dragon was slayed.
"We win!" Thor cried, and Sif thrust her shield into the air victoriously.
Fandral was the one to approach Loki. "We have come to save you, princess!" he declared, got down on a knee, and put a hand out for Loki's.
The youngest boy blinked down at the open palm. Loki's expression morphed into one of bewilderment, then hurt - then anger. He stood up so fast he almost knocked the chair over, and he yanked the crown from his head. "I'm not a princess!" he howled, and threw the crown to the ground and stomped on it. With a crack, the flimsy thing split in half.
"Hey!" Fandral cried out.
Loki could feel his cheeks growing hot and tears prickling at his eyes. He felt embarrassed and tricked. "You're all- You're all jerks!" He ran then, jumping over the small fence that separated their house from Sif's.
He didn't make it all the way to his room before Thor had caught up with him, wrapping his stupidly large arms around his younger brother, preventing any escape. "Calm down, Loki!"
"I'm not a girl!" Loki landed a particularly harsh claw at one of Thor's arm. "I hate your friends, I hate you!"
At that, Thor's arms suddenly gave away, and Loki scrambled for his room. He slammed the door shut behind him and launched himself onto his bed, burrowing under the sheets and wanting nothing more than to dissolve into them, to disappear.
A few seconds later, the bed dipped under a second weight, and Loki found himself being joined under his comforter by his brother.
"Please don't be mad at me, Loki," Thor pleaded softly. "I didn't know you'd get upset. And I wanted to save you."
"I don't have to be a princess for you to save me," Loki sniffled, swiping a hand across his nose. "I hate you."
"Don't say that." Thor buried his face into his neck, and Loki squirmed.
"Stop it, that tickles."
"Not until you take back what you said."
"I won't! Not now, not ever."
"I guess I'll never let go of you, then." To prove it, Thor tightened his hold even further-
. . .
xlvii. and the present
Loki doesn't know why the memory resurfaces. He watches Thor and his friends from the staircase, all sitting together in the living with books and notes opened in front of them.
It's almost as if he forgot why he disliked them so much, and the memory served to remind him. But it's frustrating, because it also reminds him about all the silly, affectionate things that Thor used to do to make him feel better-
And what had those become now? Dragging his little brother around and threatening to let him freeze outside?
Loki crawls back up to the topmost step, not wanting to be seen. He hasn't talked to Thor since the previous night. Not that he doesn't want to - no, every fiber of his being wants to accept Thor's apologies and hug his brother and make everything okay again - but then he remembers Last Night, and an irrational fear grips him.
He slinks back to their room to do homework.
That night, both of their parents are home for dinner. "So, how did your picnic go, any way?" their father asks them, smiling.
Out of the corner of his eye, Loki sees Thor tense, and they both know that all he needs to say is the truth and-
"I had lots of fun," Loki says, surprising them both. It's easy to feign a smile. "We ate, played together, and then when the stars came out Thor taught me the constellations." He pulls the long sleeve of his shirt even further down. It is the first bruise Thor has ever given him. It won't be the last.
"It's nice to see you boys getting along so well," their mother sighs.
(Loki ate alone. He pushed himself on the swings. He could already name all the constellations.)
. . .
xlviii. getting too old
About two days later, Loki comes home and Thor's bed is in the hallway, blocking the way to their room. "What's going on, Father?" he asks, peering around for his older brother.
He finds out that his father's study is being cleaned out, so Thor can have his own room. "You boys are getting too old to be sharing rooms," his mother comments, wiping the sweat from her brow. She's just helped move Thor's bed into the new space. "It'll be nice, to have your own," she tells Loki, and she's smiling like it's a good thing. Loki isn't sure whether it is.
Thor's new room is ready by the end of the day. That night, Loki stays awake for some time, staring at the vacant space across him. The room feels empty.
. . .
xlix. thunderstorms
On the third night sleeping by himself, Loki jolts awake at the loud boom of thunder. His room goes white at the crack of lightning, and Loki is out of bed and his room in record time.
He stumbles to his brother's new room, finding inside that Thor is already asleep. "Brother," he whispers, slipping inside and clicking the door shut as quietly as possible. It's the first word he has said to his brother since That Night.
Thor doesn't respond.
Thunder rumbles again, and Loki is tugging at the edge of Thor's blanket. There's rustling as Thor finally wakes, head lifting from the pillow. He makes a sound of acknowledgement, voice laced with drowsiness. His eyes widen at the sight of Loki. "Is everything okay?"
Loki feels guilty then, guilty for ignoring his brother all this time and thinking all those nasty thoughts about him, because Thor's eyes are genuinely concerned.
"Can I sleep here?" Loki fidgets with a button on his pajama, not meeting his gaze. His voice wavers.
"Yeah, yeah." Thor makes room for him, and Loki means to get in carefully, but at another strike of lightning, he all but dives into the bed. He doesn't think of how tight Thor's hand had been around his arm, just remembers how safe he feels in his brother's arms.
"It's just thunder." Thor's arms come around him nonetheless, and Loki finds himself being pressed into his big brother's chest, warm and secure. He gladly allows it. "Hush, don't cry, Loki."
"Not crying," Loki says thickly and buries his face into Thor's nightshirt.
. . .
l. the morning
Loki wakes, and sunlight is streaming through half-drawn blinds. He's just in time to see Thor exiting the room, most likely heading for the bathroom.
He smiles, finding that it's easier to do so now that his shoulders aren't so heavy with burden.
. . .
li. that previous night
"I'm sorry I was ignoring you, Thor." These were the hushed words spoken into the darkness of a room.
Thor looked down at him. "What?"
"I'm sorry I never talked to you and that I always avoided you." Loki drew idle patterns with his finger on Thor's chest. "I was being childish."
"No-" Thor began, shaking his head. "You have nothing to apologize for, Loki. I forgot about our picnic and let you stay out there for hours. I'm the one who hit you and- Do you still have that bruise? God, Loki, I'm so, so sorry. You didn't have to lie to Mother and Father, I deserved whatever punishment-"
"But I forgive you. It's okay, Thor. I shouldn't have gone without you, anyway."
"I won't ever hurt you again." Thor rested his chin atop Loki's head, closing his eyes. "I won't ever yell at you again, either." And he said, ironically: "I promise."
. . .
lii. the morning, arc two
Thor wakes, and Loki's back is flush against his front. He blinks, wondering why everything is so warm.
It feels nice, holding Loki like this.
And then he shoots straight up in bed, the sheets pooling around his waist. He barely remembers to be quiet so as to not disturb Loki, scrambling out of the bed with shame creeping up his throat.
Thor leaves the room in haste, mind fresh with fragments of a dream induced by a warm body pressed up against him all night.
a/n:
as you might have guessed, the underage/possible dub-con warning will start to kick in in the next chapter. most of it will take place when they're a little older, but it will still be two minors and could still be interpreted as dubious consent. ;c