Thor adjusted the pillow flattened beneath Loki's head, attempting to fluff it without waking him, and sunk back into his chair, satisfied that Loki was comfortable-or as comfortable as one could be, given the circumstance. The hypnotic ticking of the clock hands was the only sound, that and the soft sound of Loki's rattling breaths, his body still in disrepair from the fight and his newfound weakness.
Guilt sunk its teeth into Thor's conscious at the memory of his quarrel with Loki, at how he'd hurt him, and his cheeks colored with shame. He hung his head in his hands, screwing his eyes shut to block out the images, and his fingers shook as Loki, beyond him, stirred under the sheets just the slightest, his breaths becoming less even as he woke slowly from his heavy slumber.
...
"So you're telling me that right now, Loki's knocked out, mortal, and sleeping it off in your bed, all with some weird alien woman floating around somewhere with Thor and Loki's powers?" Pepper asked slowly, incredulously, each word specifically and extremely enunciated, and Tony shrugged, sighing.
"….Yeah, that just about sums it up."
Steve snorted, a glass of some unknown alcohol clutched in his hand, and Tony swiveled on his bar stool to gaze at his comrade, smirking drunkenly, a glass held in his own grip, and Jane looked up from a book she was clutching, one eyebrow raised.
"I thought alcohol couldn't affect you," Tony murmured curiously, and Steve looked down at his drink and shrugged.
"It can't. But I figured that it was worth a shot."
He gently set the beverage down, wary of a repeat of Tony's previous glass mishap, and Stark, remembering the incident and the resulting scratch on the counter, winced as he thought of listing yet another misfortune to Pepper. Natasha, who seemed entirely uninterested in the conversation, stood by the window, staring out at the skyscrapers and cloudy backdrop, her grey eyes catching the light and looking almost transparent, red hair looking like it was lit with flame.
The phantom vibrations of her phone in her pocket tempted her to check the screen, a secret part of her wishing that Clint would send her a message, a hint that he was at least alive. His recent mission required the utmost secrecy, even when around her, and she regretted that he had to go alone, had to face unknown dangers without his right-hand woman. And to think that he could be out there, dead, unconscious, or tortured, somewhere on his own without her aid to sustain him-it was nearly unbearable, and she flattened a palm against her jeans pocket absently, wishing she would feel, suddenly, the familiar vibration, but it never came, and Natasha had to pretend like she didn't care, or they would all see through her eyes and straight to her weakness.
She sighed inwardly and gazed at the towering buildings like it was the most interesting thing in the world, and Steve, sitting far enough away to be unable to see the exact glint in her eyes, pretended like he wasn't staring at her the whole time.
...
Hesitantly, Loki was drawn from sleep, and he blearily opened his eyes to see Thor sitting, hunched over, before him, shoulders trembling, his burly hands shoved against his reddened face as the light peeking out from the sides of the curtains cast a golden glow on the blonde strands loosened from the various braids and ties in his hair. He looked weak, as if his very core had been depleted, as if all of his cherished loves and possessions and people had been ripped from his grip, like he'd been brought low off of his high horse.
Slowly, Loki sat up tenderly, aware of the damage to his mortal body but still willing to catch Thor by surprise and attack him, but he couldn't help but hiss in pain, inadvertently alerting Thor of his wakefulness, and the blonde looked up, startled, blue eyes red with tears and wide with something Loki hadn't himself witnessed in a long time.
It was the memory of affection, and it made Loki falter. It was a weakness, and a damned strong one at that, and Loki cursed himself.
"Loki," Thor whispered almost soundlessly, his face so worn and tired and forlorn, eyes so familiar and pained, and Loki reclined against the headboard, ignoring the flare of pain in his back at the contact, and he let his shoulders slump, let his façade of strength dissipate, and Thor stayed where he was, longing and hoping for a conversation that could be considered civil.
"Get on with it, then," Loki suggested impatiently, swallowing thickly, and Thor blinked, snapping out of his thoughts, nodding eagerly.
"I am so…so sorry. Loki, you must believe me. I only wanted to bring you back, to fix what I had done. I wasn't thinking clearly. I…just…wasn't thinking."
Loki watched as he struggled for words, his eyes tearing up again, and Loki looked down at his hands-his weak, mortal hands-and sighed, remembering Frigga's unending mercy, and he thought that he could, for once, make his mother proud. He looked back to his sniffling brother, and Thor met his eyes with the utmost reluctance, fearful of another fight, but Loki just shook his head tiredly.
"You don't know…what you've done, Thor. My magic-it was everything, and now it's gone, just like it was never there at all. I…can't forgiv-"
Something stopped him, a murmuring in his head, a reminder of all the things Thor had forgiven him of, of all the things that had been overlooked for the sake of brotherhood, of all the times Thor had, indeed, eagerly forgotten and moved on.
And Loki, no matter how callous he'd trained himself to be or how uncaring he made himself seem, simply could not speak those words, could not deny Thor what he had given Loki time and time again, simply could not ignore the echo, so faint and fading in his memories, of Frigga's gentle, good-hearted advice.
You can never scold Thor, for he will resent you and never learn. But if you forgive him, he'll never hate you a day in his life.
Loki, more and more these days, was finding a lot of truth in the time-worn counsel, and, unbearably hot, he tugged on the collar of his stiff armor, noticing the dried blood spattered across it with distaste. His lips shook when he tried to speak, and his fingers trembled in their place atop the soft covers, and he'd never felt, both emotionally and physically, so immensely weak, so ridiculously vulnerable. When he spoke, he looked to his lap, and couldn't meet his brother's eyes.
"I'm sorry. For all that I've done, both here and anywhere else, to you and the family and the mortals. I know it was wrong, but there are some things you will never know, my motive being one of them."
He found the nerve to look upward, at Thor's teary eyes.
"And don't pretend to understand me; it won't get you anywhere. I could wake up one morning and kill the lot of you and you'd never see it coming, so don't presume me predictable, and don't think you can handle me. Right now, as humans, we both stand on equal ground."
He sighed heavily, longing for the chill, the familiar iciness, that had for so long resided in his body, weary of the heat and the burn and the pain.
"But I want my magic back, and I intend to get it-with or without your help. Now if you want to go-"
Abruptly, there was a loud disturbance in the air, and Thor was wrapping his arms about Loki's shoulders in a tight, happy embrace, his own body struck with slight tremors, and Loki realized that tears were dripping onto his armor, that Thor was crying on his shoulder, that Thor, and he was overcome with memories at the contact, was crying, that he trusted Loki enough to come near him in such a way and leave himself so intensely, openly and willingly, vulnerable, just as Loki had been moments ago. In all the moments of his life, he'd never felt so powerless, left abandoned and without his only virtue, left completely and utterly alone, and Thor tightened his hold, the feel of his arms reminiscent of the soft press of Frigga's hold against him when he was a child. Quivering, weak, and aching, Loki sighed.
Of their own accord, Loki's arms came around to wrap securely around Thor's back, and his head fell forward, face buried in Thor's tangled hair, eyes falling shut, leaden burdens falling from his shoulders just as a tear streaked down his cheek.
"I'm sorry," he breathed quietly, and Thor cupped a palm at the back of Loki's neck (a moment appeared in his mind, a moment before the coronation when the atmosphere was tense with anxiety, released by Loki's playful and mocking banter, his natural way of soothing the most troubling of concerns, his smile so bright and proud and joyous), smoothing down an unruly lock of black hair in the process as he tried to compose himself.
"So am I, Loki. But right now, we need to get our powers back."
He pulled away reluctantly, pretending like he didn't notice the trails of water running down Loki's pale cheeks, the blurred shine of his green eyes illuminated beneath the harsh glare of the bedroom lighting. Loki nodded and sniffed, blinking away tears.
"We need to find the woman, whoever she is. Do you have any idea?" The trickster shook his head, releasing a slow breath, and Thor nodded in acceptance, smiling good-naturedly at his brother, and Loki, studying his expression, smirked mockingly, raising a brow.
"I guess we'll have to hunt her down," he said, excited for adventure, and Thor laughed happily, clapping Loki on the shoulder.
"I have to go talk to everyone and see what they say."
And he was gone, backing out of the door and smiling like he'd just been given the greatest gift, and Loki watched him go with a darkening gloom falling over his features, his smile vanishing as soon as Thor's crimson cape was out of eyesight. His eyes were shadowed, and that same weakness was quick to return, and he curled up on his side and buried himself underneath the covers, longing to escape the murmurs in his head.
...
"How in the darkest pits of hell are we supposed to track this person down?"
Tony asked seriously, arms crossed as he stood behind Pepper, who sat with her hands folded in her lap, carefully placed on the sofa cushion that didn't have Loki's blood on it, eyes flitting to the stain every once and a while with revulsion shining in her judgmental stare. Natasha and Jane gave each other questioning looks, and turned from the other awkwardly when they both realized neither person had an answer. Steve sat, deep in thought, hands buried in his jacket pockets, his blue eyes trained on Thor as the man tried to explain.
"Loki knows things. If he can't figure it out, then we can help him. Surely, with all of us combined, we can find her and relinquish our abilities."
Steve put up a finger, as if from a sudden realization, and pointed at Thor, unsure.
"Wouldn't that just kill Loki? I mean, if his life is based on the deal that he become human, wouldn't making him a god again just negate the deal?"
Thor, his mouth open to give a retort, faltered, and he sighed, eyes wide as he realized the truth in the Captain's words. He shook his head, and Tony thought he saw a trace of denial in his suddenly panicked stare.
"But…there has to be a way. There has to-"
"It's alright, Thor," came a soft voice from behind them, and they all turned to see Loki, leaning heavily on the bedroom doorframe, his feet bared against the plush carpet of the living room where it connected with the hardwood of Tony and Pepper's room. His armor was gone, the ebony leather and green fabric replaced by a forest-hued cotton undershirt and black pants. There was still blood on his clothes, and it stained the fabric darkly, but Thor didn't seem to notice. He smiled, but there was worry in his eyes.
"Are you sure you feel well enough to-"
Loki stopped him with a hand in the air, nodding, and he pushed himself off of the frame, ignoring the harsh glares of the team around him, going over to stand by Thor's side.
"I've been thinking," he started slowly, and Tony could hear, for the first time, a certain exhaustion in Loki's voice. He could catch the glint of sorrow in his eyes, the beginnings of panic, the sluggish weariness that had settled. He was used to the arrogant, murderous, insane Loki-not this one, and it surprised him, but he remained impassive, too wary of displaying emotion that Loki could use against him later. It seemed that the man's presence unnerved both Pepper and Steve, and Natasha seemed captured by the change Tony noticed, eyes trailing the way Loki put his hands behind his back, the way he toyed with the unraveling strands at the hem of his shirt, the way he shied away from Thor's gaze. It was like he was a different person, and Natasha refused to be fooled, so she searched deeper for the Loki she knew to be there, somewhere, narrowing her gaze.
"We should hold off on finding the woman. We need information, and currently have no way of getting it. The longer we wait around, the more the opportunity to research her will present itself."
He shrugged, and Thor, like a lost puppy that had just found its master, nodded in complete agreement, like there couldn't possibly be a better idea, and Jane frowned, standing.
"Shouldn't we think of other options?" Loki turned to her, and she expected to meet his rage, or his contempt, or anything that made her feel like the merest mortal in a crowd of Asgardians, but his eyes were empty, and she stepped back, terrified.
An emotional Loki, even if angry and screaming and crying, was better than an emotionless Loki, and she swallowed nervously. Loki's gaze slid lazily over her and to where Natasha was sitting, strewn out like a cat, his once calculating stare now deriving from pure curiosity, and the spy stared stoically back, reminded of her last interaction with him. Steve, aware of the entire ordeal, stood and moved in front of Loki's attentive eyes, putting a blockade between the trickster and Natasha, and Loki smiled. It wasn't a cruel gesture, but an observational one, and his eyes sparkled with amusement as he bowed his head the slightest, looking away.
Steve tried not to act flustered.
"What are we going to do, keep him here? We're going to sleep in the same area as a murderer?"
Tony, squeezing his hold on Pepper's shoulder reassuringly, nodded in vigorous agreement, and Thor looked at them all, frowning, and no one took notice of Jane's question, so she sat down slowly, angered.
"Yes. I'll look after him, and if he starts trouble, I'll take care of it. But he won't, will you, Loki?"
Turning, Thor beckoned his brother, and Loki sidled closer, shaking his head.
"I won't harm you. My condition…wouldn't benefit from it."
And no matter how many times they argued, or how many times Tony raised his voice or banged his fist against the table, or how many times Steve eyed Loki evilly when he caught the man staring at Natasha, or how many times Jane had to pretend like the whole ordeal wasn't just plain crazy, Thor would agree to nothing but the conditions that Loki stay in the Tower until his powers were returned, and then he would be right back in Asgard's dungeons on the charge of murder.
Thor didn't mention the ever-increasing fear he had that he wouldn't be able to save Loki from the fate of death that surely awaited him in the golden halls of Asgard, and Loki didn't mention the sinking premonition he had that something awful was going to happen.
Please R&R! Feedback of any kind is always appreciated! ;)