Disclaimer: I don't own Marvel.

Claimer: I own Evyn.

In this chapter, Loki is masculine and goes by "he/him/his" pronouns.

"I, to put it in Midgardian terms, 'fucked up'."

Evyn looked up from his book as Loki walked in and began to pace, raising his eyebrows and saying "Oh?"

"Very much 'yes.' It was a spectacular failure, I must admit," Loki continued, his tone bitter and sarcastic. "Making your mother cry is a fantastic feat."

"Ah," Evyn put his book aside. "You know, your session isn't for another twenty minutes. I haven't even put the kettle on."

"Do I look like I care?" Loki snapped and Evyn stood, grabbing said kettle and filling it, putting it on a little stove and taking out the teapot, making up the tray he usually did.

"Take a thing from the basket and have a seat, Loki," he said. "Take some time to observe it."

Loki grumbled something under his breath and did as he was told. When Evyn sat down again, Loki was sitting slumped on the sofa, passing a beanbag from hand to hand.

"It's bumpy," he said when Evyn remained silent. "It makes a strange sound when you squeeze it, like the grain or pebbles inside it is scraping together. It smells like soap and... something flowery."

"Hmm." Evyn laced his fingers together. "I think perhaps we'll have to find another way get get you to release anger."

"Oh, you think so?" Loki sneered and threw the beanbag onto the table. Evyn sighed and tossed him a pillow.

"Scream into that," he said. Loki gave him a Look and Evyn made a "well, go on" motion with his hands. Rolling his eyes, Loki pulled his legs up and pressed his face into the pillow, screaming into it like Evyn had told him, long and hard, his fingers curling into the fabric.

"Better?" Evyn asked when Loki turned his face away. Loki didn't reply, instead hugging the pillow. Evyn nodded. "Alright," he said. "So perhaps 'better' isn't the right word to use. Do you feel less angry?"

Loki nodded. "I'm an idiot," he informed Evyn, sounding utterly miserable about it as he did so.

"No, you're not."

"Yes, I am," Loki insisted. Evyn hummed and poured Loki a cup of tea.

"Why don't you start from the beginning," he said, pouring a cup for himself. "Why exactly are you an idiot?"

Loki heaved a great sigh. "I made Mother cry."

"How so?"

Loki groaned, burying his face into the pillow again. "She... I told her she wasn't my mother."

"Ahh."

Loki glared up at Evyn. "I told you I was an idiot."

"No, I don't think you're an idiot," Evyn assured him. "What prompted you to say that?"

Loki didn't look at him. "She's still trying to convince me to go to Alfheim with Odin."

"And I take it you refused?" Evyn asked. Loki nodded.

"I told her Odin wasn't my father and she asked... She asked if she wasn't my mother." Loki paused and then closed his eyes, clenching his jaw. "And then I told her she wasn't."

"And you feel badly about it," Evyn said. It wasn't a question, but Loki still sneered.

"No, of course not," he said, sarcasm dripping in his tone. "Why would I feel badly about making my mother cry?"

Evyn remained silent and Loki felt himself flush. He looked down and mumbled "Sorry. That was... inappropriate."

Evyn twisted a few strands of hair around his finger, leaning back in his chair. "I don't think I'm the one you need to apologize to," he said at last. Loki glanced up at him in surprise, then back down again as guilt washed over him. "Loki," Evyn said and Loki glanced back up. "It's still ten minutes until your appointed time. If you wanted to go and come back, that would be okay."

Loki shook his head. "No," he whispered. "That's okay." He paused and then added "I ran out of medicine yesterday."

"Ah! Hold on a moment." Evyn stood and walked over to his cabinets, searching through until he pulled out a bottle, opening and peering in. He closed it and walked back, placing it in front of Loki. "There you go. Now," he sat back down. "Besides the current situation, what is your typical relationship with your mother?"

Loki shrugged. "Good. It's... generally good. Always has been, I suppose. She's... I trust her. She..." Loki hesitated a moment. "She's always loved me. I've never had a reason to doubt that." He picked at his shirt before muttering "She deserves better."

"What's your favorite thing about her?" Evyn asked. Loki considered for a few moments.

"She always listens," he said at last. "And if she's doing something, I'll sometimes have to wait, but when she's finished, she gives you her undivided attention. And she listens even if she's annoyed." He shrugged and hesitated for a moment.

"When I was... young," Loki started. "In my fifties, or perhaps my sixties, I started... noticing things about myself." He flushed and hesitated again, swallowing. "I... Sometimes I turn into a... woman." He glanced up at Evyn, but the other man didn't seem to react to this information, so Loki continued. "I realized that this wasn't normal and went to her, asking if it... Well, if it was normal. I then asked her not to tell anyone, not even F... Odin. And Thor."

"And she kept the secret," Evyn guessed. Loki nodded.

"To my knowledge, yes," he replied.

"How did you react, knowing she was in on the secret of your birth?" Evyn asked.

Loki licked his lips. "We've... not discussed it much. She said she never wanted to keep it a secret, but she did so anyway. I'm not- I don't know."

"Have you forgiven her?" Evyn asked.

"I don't know," Loki repeated, then shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut. "I don't know," he repeated. "I'm trying, I want to, but I just..." He swallowed and whispered "I can't."

Evyn nodded. "You trusted her, possibly more than anyone, correct?" Loki gave a nod and Evyn continued "It takes time for trust to be rebuilt after it gets broken, even though you love her still."

"But that's-" Loki fidgeted his fingers. "I do still trust her," he said. "I've always been able to trust her, and she does seem sorry. I want to forgive her. She- I can't- I can't lose her!" He burst out and doubled over, running his fingers and pulling, squeezing his eyes shut.

"Loki. Loki!" Evyn leaned forwards. "You won't lose her, Loki. You won't lose her."

"Do you think she hates me?" Loki asked, still doubled over, but moving to wrap his arms around himself. "How far until I finally push them away? Until they finally get sick of me? Until they-" He stopped and grabbed the pillow again, screaming into it again.

Evyn waited until Loki had stopped until he spoke. "Loki," he said. "The love of your mother—or Odin for that matter—will not be shaken that easily, if ever. It is hard to watch someone, especially a loved one, hurt as much as you do now. Frigga loves you, Loki; she proved that to me during your episode. Odin loves you too, though I imagine he rarely shows it. Thor definitely loves you. But as I say; it is hard. It's not your fault," he added as Loki looked up, a stricken, almost panicked look on his face. "You cannot help what his happening right now. They know it isn't your fault, and they don't blame you."

"Even Thor?" Loki asked, his voice shaky.

"Even Thor," Evyn confirmed. "He is prone to his temper, yes? He may blame you in times of his confusion and pain, but he knows that this is not your fault. All he knows is that his brother is hurting and he doesn't know what to do about it, though from what you've told me, he is trying. I don't think Odin knows, either. But Loki, they all wish to help you."

"How can they?" Loki asked, his voice still shaky. "I don't even know how to help myself."

"And I don't expect you to," Evyn said. "That's why I'm here. I'm here to help you through this. You're not expected to fix this on your own, forget know how. There are things you will have to do, but Loki, you are not alone, however much it may feel like it."

"It's just-" Loki hugged the pillow again. "It's just so hard. I feel like I'm- I'm-" He stopped and squeezed his eyes shut again. "Falling," he finished at last. "I'm falling." He looked up at Evyn desperately. "I don't know what to do," he said. "I don't know how to stop. I don't even know what it's like to not be falling anymore."

Evyn clasped his hands together and said quietly "Thank you for telling me, Loki. I know that it's hard, sometimes, to express these emotions. I know it's easy to be afraid, especially since you don't know what it's like to be well anymore. I think you've been suffering from this for a long, long time, and I think we need to get to the root of it."

Loki sat up again, still hugging the pillow, and leaned against the armrest of the sofa, having curled up on the far side. He looked down and nodded, sniffing. "Okay," he said, feeling child-like as he did so, wiping his eyes with the palm of his hand. "Okay," he repeated, quieter this time.

Loki's first memory was of his mother and a fireplace.

He had been sitting on Frigga's lap on the sofa in front of the hearth. She had been reading a book and though he hadn't understood what she had been saying, he could remember the melody of her voice. The fire had been warm, he had perhaps been wrapped in a blanket. He thought he could remember feeling content.

Thor had been there too, or maybe it was a different memory that he had pushed into that one. He had sat next to them, peering over her arm as she read before falling asleep, head on her lap. The room wasn't sharp in Loki's memory, but the book was, possibly less because he truly remembered it, and more because he knew what it looked like. After all, he had learned to read from that book a few decades later.

But he hadn't been focusing on the book. He'd been tired; it was late for a child as young as he had been. He hadn't been focusing on the book, but looking past it, his head resting back on Frigga's shoulder.

He had been looking at the fire, as though hypnotized by the flames, licking the wood and making it crack, watching the colors flow seamlessly from orange to red to yellow.

The first nightmare that he could remember having had been of a cold, aching loneliness, and of strange noises in the dark. It was only later, after he had been told of them, that the frost giants began to appear in his dreams as well.

But sometimes...

Sometimes...

If he pushed back into his memory, past the cold and the fire, he thought he could remember a gentle, soothing melody, the words indistinguishable, like a single flake in a handful of snow.

Sometimes, if he cared to look back so far, Loki could remember what it felt like to be truly happy.

Notes:

I have an essay to write in three days, a twelve-page short story to revise, a few writing exercises to get done, plus a cold to get rid of. What do I do instead? I write a Frostiron oneshot about Loki being sick before falling asleep for three hours.

Oh well. On the upside, I got the name and number of a very lovely girl the other night. I wonder if she likes Marvel too...

Anyway, here's a new chapter. Thank you to everyone who left comments and kudos! I've got about ten pre-written chapters, however they're not really cooperating with me and need a little re-writing.