a/n;
I'm really sorry this one's so late, guys. midterms are awful and AP is a particular pain in the ass ; c ;
I hope the length of this chapter makes up for it ;ajsjf;lk

heed an underage warning for the next chapter.

lxviii. mistakes

"Never," he'd said.

It wasn't the terrifying look in his brother's eyes that drove him to comply, nor was it the prospect of their parents finding out. It wasn't that Loki feared what Thor would do if he refused. It wasn't that he felt the same way, disgusted, regretful, that he also wanted to put it behind them, to forget.

He waited for something to happen - for his brother to grab him, to-

-do what?

What do you want him to do, Loki?

"Never," Loki said, because he didn't like these feelings churning with him, hated that something like disappointment had settled, heavy in his stomach.

. . .

lxix. mistakes

It takes thirteen days - not that Loki is counting.

On the fourteenth, he comes home to Thor sitting on the front porch steps of their house. "...Do you want to come over?" Balder asks slowly as they stop by the driveway, and Loki considers. Balder seems to always know what to say.

"Not today," Loki says, decisively. Because he will not be a coward. "I have chores to do."

He hasn't told Balder anything, but he knows that his friend has glimpsed what lies beneath his long sleeves. And though Balder never speaks up, Loki thinks that he has already pieced some things together.

"Are you sure?" his friend insists, baby blue eyes shining in genuine concern.

"I'm sure." Loki smiles. "Thanks anyway, Balder."

Balder gives a curt nod before departing, although hesitantly. Loki waits until he is out of sight before moving forward.

Thor hasn't moved, bent over something in his hand. When Loki's close enough, he realizes that he's listening to some music - probably why he hadn't noticed his arrival.

Thor doesn't look up when Loki walks past him. Loki puts a hand on the doorknob, and then he hears: "It's locked."

He glances back at his brother. "...Why?"

"We're locked out." Thor finally pulls out one of his earbuds and leans back on his elbows, still not looking at him. "Mom and Dad aren't home, and I left my keys in my room." He pauses. "Do you have yours?"

Loki thinks of his own keys, sitting on the table - in his room. He has only gotten them recently and still isn't in the habit of carrying them with him. "No," he admits meekly, hesitant to incite Thor's quick temper.

Thor sighs. "Yeah, I didn't think you would," he says in a way that makes Loki feel bad. "Mom and Dad aren't coming home for an hour." He stops abruptly.

For a few minutes, Loki just stands there, fingers fidgeting with the straps of his backpack - until Thor looks back and says, "What are you doing?"

Loki shoots him a puzzled look.

"Aren't you going to Balder's house, or whatever?" Thor turns away again, and Loki thinks he saw irritation flash across his features.

"No," he answers, but how is Thor supposed to hear him, anyway. He drops his backpack by the door and furtively sits on the other side of the step.

He tries to read for a few minutes, but eventually gives up when his fingers threaten to go numb in the chilly air. He's only wearing a light jacket; he hadn't anticipated staying out in the cold for this long.

Some time later, Thor finally takes note of the way his brother is desperately trying to pull the sleeves of his jacket over his hand for warmth. Loki hears another sigh, and then out of peripheral vision, he sees Thor get up to move closer.

"Why didn't you wear a heavier jacket?" he grunts, wrapping an arm around him roughly.

Loki tenses. He wonders if it's a test. "I didn't expect to be locked out when I got home." In the end, the need for warmth wins out of paranoia, and he lets himself be pulled in.

"Fair enough."

Thor has put his earbud back in and resumed listening to music, and it's so loud that Loki can hear some of the lyrics. His brother is a warm and solid weight behind him, a shield from the cold. They haven't been this close in...a long time. Loki misses it.

"I really miss you, Thor." He knows that his brother can't hear him through his music, but Loki whispers these words nonetheless. He doesn't look up, lest Thor be able to read his lips. He sighs, leans in to the warmth emanating from his brother. "I really miss you."

Together, they wait.

. . .

lxx. mistakes

(That Night never comes up again, because Loki had promised so.

Slowly, gradually, he and Thor fall back to a state of normalcy - except it's not quite, for every touch and glance that Thor sends his way is careful and guarded.

But Thor also doesn't yell at or hurt him anymore, and Loki's skin stays unblemished for weeks. He doesn't need to wear illogical long-sleeved shirts anymore. There are the occasional moments when Thor asks him for help on his history homework, or sometimes it's English, and Loki would stay even after the homework has been tucked away in Thor's backpack. He would sprawl himself on Thor's bed with a book, reading as his brother finished something up on the computer. And when Thor would nudge his ankle in a request for room, and Loki would make space for him. These are the times that Loki likes best; the weight of the past falls heavy around them, but neither of them say anything. This way, Loki can pretend that they never happened.

He remembers an older brother, a golden figure in the sunlight, helping him walk, pulling him along in his wagon, stubbornly refusing to leave his side when he was sick. Then Loki curls on his side and his arms brush someone else's skin and he thinks, Oh, he has never left.)

. . .

lxxi. mistakes

First day of high school: Loki is in several advanced classes. Upperclassmen, when the teacher says his name for roll call, ask, "Odinson? You're Thor's brother?"

"You look nothing like him," they say, surely not intending to offend, but it stings a little, anyway.

He has seventh period lunch, which is awful, because it's so late in the day and by then, Loki is starving. When he first walks into the cafeteria, he is overwhelmed by the amount of students. None of them are paying attention to him, but he feels watched nonetheless. He picks out an empty booth near the back, drops off his backpack, and goes to line up.

He says hi to a few friends on the way - Amora, Steve, Natasha, Darcy - and contemplates asking if he could sit with them. But they already looked settled down, the seats are all taken, and he decides that he doesn't want to accidentally kick someone out of their chair.

When he returns, his backpack is on the floor, and there are other older students sitting in his seat. "Excuse me," he says, but they don't seem to hear.

With a sigh, he picks his backpack up and goes to the library.

There, he runs into his brother, sitting in one of the tables and hunched over some math paper. "What are you doing here?" Thor asks, almost accusatorial, as he eyes Loki's tray.

Loki shifts, uncertain. "Eating lunch."

"There's no food allowed."

"The librarian said I could."

The old lady looked at him and smiled, almost understandingly, sadly, and nodded for him to go ahead. She had a large scar down the side of her left cheek; Loki thought that maybe she had that when she was in high school. Maybe she resigned to eating in the library, too. Maybe she knew how he felt.

Or maybe she simply pitied him.

Thor reaches over and pulls his backpack off a chair. "Sit here, then. Don't want the guys taking your lunch money."

Loki's eyes widen as he takes a seat. "They...They do that?"

"No." Thor's lips split into a smile, and he goes back to his paper. "They'll probably just stuff you in a locker. I think you'd fit."

Loki makes a startled noise.

"I'm just kidding," says Thor, still smiling to himself. "I'd kill anyone who laid a finger on you."

lxxii. mistakes

The next day, the same kids take his seat again - so again, Loki takes to the library, and again, his brother is there. "No, seriously, is someone picking on you?" Thor asks.

"No." Loki sits. "I'd just rather sit here."

Thor stares at him, unimpressed, but says nothing more on the matter.

. . .

lxxxiii. mistakes

"Who are they," Thor says on the sixth day. "I'll deal with them."

"There's no one," Loki insists. And then, more hesitantly: "I like sitting here. I like sitting with you."

. . .

lxxiv.

On bus rides, Thor sits with his friends, and Loki is content to sit with a quiet boy named Bruce. He can hear his brother, even though he's up front and Thor is all the way in the back. Thor seems to turn into a different person altogether when he's with his friends: bright, charismatic, friendly. With Loki, he's more somber, more reserved. Loki isn't sure whether this is a good thing or not.

About a month into the school year, Loki spies a moving van in front of the curb. He asks Thor if Sif is moving (and tries not to sound too hopeful), but his brother says no. The next time Loki sees Balder, he asks him, "Are new people moving in?" He wishes.

Balder looks ashamed, averting his gaze to the ground. "I was going to tell you, but we don't see each other as much anymore..."

"Tell me what, Balder?"

"My dad got a new job in another state, so...we're moving."

Loki nearly shrieks in dismay, and he doesn't care if he is now fifteen and past the point of temper tantrums. "You're moving why didn't you tell me I thought I was your best friend you traitor-" They're both sitting in the grass and Loki very nearly leaps at him.

Balder hugs him abruptly, as if to stifle his loud demands. "Stop, Loki," he nearly begs. "I was going to tell you, I swear! But my mom's been trying to convince my dad to let us stay here, and he's pretty close to agreeing- I didn't want to make you upset for no reason."

"Will you be here for Christmas?" Loki mumbles. "We were going to have a big dinner, and I had an idea for your present-"

"Of course I'll be here for Christmas." Balder releases him. "My mom's a lawyer - if she can convince an entire court, then she can convince my dad."

"She better," Loki says, trying to be threatening, but he's too focused on the thought of losing his best friend.

"Anyway, if I did move away-"

"Which you won't."

"Right. If I did move away, I'd talk to you every day, you know, or at least try to. We would still be best friends."

"I don't want you to go," Loki says, suddenly feeling very small and alone. He plucks at a grass and thinks of all the tiny micro-organisms all around them, going on with their micro-organic lives, oblivious to his dilemma.

Did such tiny things worry about friends?

Sometimes he wished he was one of them.

. . .

lxxv.

On December twenty-third, the house to their right is empty.

"Balder?" Loki knocks loudly at the front door, rings the doorbell, peeks through the small window of the garage. There is no car inside, and no one comes to the door.

Distressed, Loki wades through ankle-deep snow back home and asks his mother, "Did Balder move?"

His mother looks puzzled. "Yes, they moved out this afternoon. I thought you knew."

"I was at school!" Loki cries out. "How was I supposed to know? How was I supposed to say goodbye? "

He storms up to his room. Thor is brushing his teeth in the bathroom. "Why are you so upset?" he asks, putting the toothbrush down.

Loki ignores him and stomps into his room, slamming his door shut behind him. He buries himself under pillows and blankets and listens to the sound of water running, his own heavy breathing, feeling his eyes sting-

Thor comes in a few minutes later and lies down next to him. "I thought you knew," Loki hears him say.

He pushes the cover away to look at Thor. "Get out."

"I knew he was a dick," Thor says, ignoring him.

"Get out," Loki seethes. "Don't talk about him like that."

"He was your best friend, wasn't he? Bastard didn't even say goodbye."

"Shut up!"

"You bought him a Christmas present too, didn't you? I bet if he knew, he would have just-"

"Stop," Loki says one last time, weakly. "Stop it, just stop." He hasn't cried in a long time (crying is for babies) and he will not break that record tonight. He pulls the blanket back up over his head, refusing to hear Thor any longer.

"I wouldn't do that to you." Thor's arms are around him, suddenly, holding a little too tight. For a few seconds, they stay like that, Loki terrified to move, until Thor continues softly: "I've done things I'm not proud of." Falters. "I... I think about that night a lot, you know? I hate myself every second for it." Takes a deep breath. "But I would never, ever leave you, Loki." Whispers: "Never."

. . .

lxxvi.

On Christmas eve, their parents invite a few family friends over. Loki doesn't know most of them, so he stays around for the first hour or so before sneaking upstairs. He glances out the window, at the empty house that used to be Balder's. Pushing down the swell of resentment, he decides he doesn't want to go to his room after all and heads for Thor's.

"You didn't like the party either?" his brother asks, sitting on the floor with a can of beer by his knee.

Loki sits next to him. "You're not supposed to be drinking that."

"I'm eighteen," Thor replies flippantly. "I can do what I want."

"Are you drunk?"

"No," Thor says decisively. "The can's not even open, or did you not notice?"

"It doesn't mean you haven't already finished ten other cans."

"Come here, then," Thor demands, and doesn't wait for compliance before grabbing Loki by the shoulder, turning him, and kissing him fully on the lips. "Damn mistletoe," he mutters into the kiss, and then deepens it still, and Loki wants to tell him that there's no mistletoe, you're being delusional, brother, you really are drunk, aren't you?

But he doesn't, because he would be lying if he said he was able to think in coherent thoughts.

Because one night, a year ago, when this same mouth kissed him for the first time, he might - might might might - have kissed back.

Thor pulls back, abruptly.

"What," Loki says, a little out of breath. "D-Did I do something-"

"No."

"Then why did you stop?"

Frustration edges its way into his tone; Thor snorts.

"For a genius, you sure can be an idiot sometimes, Loki."

. . .

lxxvii.

About brothers, siblings in general: Things happen, from trivial to bad to worse, but it all becomes happened, past-tense. A quarrel may last a week, but it may take a day for reconciliation - and sometimes apologies aren't even needed to be said out loud before they are playing together again.

Here, no apologies need to be said out loud.

. . .

lxxviii.

On the second day back from winter break, Loki comes to the library without a lunch and in tears.

"What happened?" Thor demands, rising to meet him, but his brother just collapses into the chair. His hair is damp, the strands soaking the shoulders of his shirt, and he's shaking, shaking so badly-

He stammers out a story, but Thor barely understands any of it. Scowling at the unwanted attention they have received from other students, he leans over, grabs Loki's shoulders, and enunciates, "Stop crying and tell me what happened."

In between, he catches swimming and water and scared and drowning. Thor thinks back on his own freshman year and remembers the swimming unit in gym.

"But you didn't drown, did you," he tells Loki, trying to calm him down. "You're fine, you're right here, Loki. There's nothing to be afraid of."

"Th-They're going to m-m-make me g-go back in t-tomorrow," Loki hiccups. He has never looked so terrified, so wrecked. "Th-They made me g-g-get in th-the water today, I d-didn't want t-to, b-but they made me, and I don't want to go b-back, Thor, I don't, I don't, I don't-"

Thor squeezes his hand. "Swimming? You don't know how to swim, Loki?"

"My arms were hurting," Loki is still rambling through tears, "I told th-them I c-c-couldn't any more, but th-they didn't listen t-t-to me."

"The teachers?" Thor asks, disbelieving, but Loki doesn't answer anymore questions. With a sigh, Thor simply lets Loki cling to him, letting the rest of his tears out.

. . .

lxxix.

"Don't tell Mother or Father," Loki begs him on the bus. "They'll think I'm getting worse again, and I'm not." His green eyes are wide with anxiety. "I'm really not."

The next day, Thor forges a note excusing Loki from swimming.

"This is the only time I'll do this," he warns. "You need to ask your teacher for help, Loki."

Loki fidgets with the note in his hand. He nods, short and clipped. "I don't like them," he says sullenly. "...Will you teach me, Thor?"

"I'm already busy enough-"

"Please. I'll do something for you in return - I'll do your homework, if you want, or your chores."

Thor watches him warily. "It's that bad?"

Loki's eyes flick down, ashamed. "I don't like being afraid of drowning." (Balder would have taught me, he thinks. But Thor isn't Balder; Balder is gone now.)

The bus screeches to a stop. Thor shoulders his backpack, gets up. "Okay, fine. There's free swim after school, so we can do it then." During their walk home, he nudges his brother's arm and says, almost jokingly but not quite, "You owe me."

. . .

lxxx.

"Is Loki home?" Balder asked.

The date was December twenty-second.

Thor held the front door open, half tempted to just shut it in the boy's face. It was freezing. "No, he stayed after school for a club," he said. "Why?"

"Oh." Balder looked embarrassed. For a while, he seemed to consider leaving - then he suddenly thrust a package out at Thor. "Can you give this to him?"

"What is it?" Thor accepted it gingerly. He already had a vague idea; the bright Christmas wrapping gave it away.

"A goodbye present. There's... There's an envelope inside, a letter for him." Balder fiddled with the fingers of his gloves, standing there awkwardly. "Can you just make sure he gets it?"

Thor finally took it. "Yeah, sure."

Balder's facial features relaxed, and he looked up at Thor gratefully. "Thank you," he said. Then, he added, "A-And could you also tell him I'm sorry? That I didn't get to give it to him myself? My parents didn't want to wait any longer..."

"Yeah, no, I understand," Thor assured with a nod. "I'll explain it to him."

There came a honk.

"That's my dad," Balder said sheepishly. "I- I guess I'll be going, then. I never talk to you much, Thor, but you were really cool." He smiled. "...Take care of Loki, all right?"

"I will," Thor said, and even waved as the younger boy ran back to his car.

. . .

lxxxi.

The present sits somewhere in the back of a dark closet.