Ssshhhskkk!
Sparks explode upon impact. The sound of metal screeching across metal rips through the sky. It's hot, a sear that can only come from a world hugging a star too-closely, sunrays pelting down through a too-thin atmosphere of a too-small planet. The scorch of the air burns off the edges of one's senses like outside crust crumbling away.
Slam-slam-slam-smash!
"To think!—" Fandral gasps out, right before falling straight into a barrel roll, driving thick waves of sun baked dust into the air, "I rather enjoyed that pile of scraps when it was on our side!"
The Destroyer looms overhead as another of their attacks bounces off its shiny hide. The blasted thing had followed them through the Bifrost, Fandral's sure of it. But to be right on their tails? It's as if—
Fandral lets out a shout as he hooks arms across Sif and Hogun's chests to dive out of the way as a fiery hot disk of energy spins inside the Destroyer's hinged head. It rears back for just a second, as if in the violent throws of a sneeze, right before spitting out a deathly ray of power.
Zzzzzmmmm!
The beam carves across the landscape like a knife through tissue, leaving scars behind.
"It still is on the right side!" Sif shouts, spitting hair out of her mouth and shoving Fandral's opportunistic right hand off her breastplate, "It is we who are on the wrong!"
Hogun pushes off Fandral's equally opportunistic left hand and together he and Sif make the blond moustached warrior slap himself in the face. Fandral just laughs in good fun. Then they scramble.
"CURSE...THAT...LOKI!" Volstagg roars.
They spot the huge metal suit clanging across the dusty flat of the land, valiantly trying to step on Volstagg. Clever as he is though, Volstagg uses his rotund warrior physique to roll out of the way with ease.
It is true the Destroyer is a merciless force of protection in Asgard. But protection is its only purpose. Asgardians prefer to fight their own battles which make Destroyer's presence on Midgard so bizarre. Unless there is something here... something worth protecting. Preposterous.
"It's a trap." Hogun growls under his breath, tossing his weapon into the fray to trip up their opponent and give Volstagg a breather. "Loki sent us here so there would be good reason to attack us!"
The momentarily flattened Destroyer gives them but a pause to recollect and take up a defensive position. Sif's face hardens, "We've been tricked."
The desert floor is hot and dry and barren. The glowing runes of the BiFrost's magic have flickered out, leaving behind black etches underfoot and the smell one gets when standing too close to a fire. Midgard is a strange fragile place. Light a match here and everything could burn.
Simple, really, what Loki has accomplished. How foolish they were, to buy into such a plan. To come to Midgard was a mistake. A reason for treason.
Frantically scanning against the harsh glaring cut of sky, Sif takes sight of something like a mirage, a dark smudge stretched across a small part of the horizon. A village perhaps? Somewhere Thor could be—
Bffffffttt!
A gigantic fireball spit forth from the Destroyer's maw goes tearing through the air with vengeance, exploding somewhere within the distant city.
Sif and the Warriors Three are knocked to their feet. With a cry of fury, Volstagg crawls along the ground, dragging himself up beside Hogun. All four warriors are lying in the dirt in a line, shoulders pressed together and coated in golden dust. The Destroyer leans over, and their vision of the bright blue sky is rudely blocked.
The Destroyer rears back one massive foot and they close their eyes awaiting the final blow.
There's the telltale high-pitched shriek of energy and a thunder of impact explodes right above their heads as the Destroyer walks right over them, a wild beam of energy coming from its head razing across the landscape.
"Of all the nerve..." Sif gasps out a puff of dust and sits up.
"Did you see that?" Volstagg sputters indignantly.
"Nay," Fandral responds shakily, creaking one eye open a sliver, much too terrified to look.
Volstagg gives a hearty ironic laugh. "It stepped over us like we were a pile of—!"
"It's following the trace," Hogun cuts him off, shoving a hand into one of his pockets and pulling out the magical spinning mechanism. It rests in his open palm then splits with a quick burst, reshaping itself into a point aimed at the Destroyer's rampaging back.
"Hey," Sif smacks Fandral in the head. "Get up."
"You do know what this means." Fandral intones miserably, blinking warily, "It's not after us."
"Aye," Hogunn replies and Volstagg finishes:
"It's after Thor."
The endless maze of the compound is in shambles.
What once were pristine winding halls teeming with Midgardians are now abandoned, filled only with chunks of plaster and dust. There are alarms loudly blaring, red flashing lights suspended from the ceilings every other corner flooding the red light everywhere. Something is wrong. If Thor's been great at anything, it's sniffing out a fight.
He runs, pushing his legs harder, the burn thrumming through him like the powerful electric current that calls to him like a whisper in a darkened room. Luring him, pulling on his senses until he's strung taunt, needing, wanting—
Mjölnir.
He bursts through a doorway.
The end of a weapon catches him in the face.
"Argh!" Thor groans and lashes out, swinging at the agent who has appeared as if by magic. The woman gets a kick to his stomach and Thor grunts, curling in on himself for a second enough for her to go spinning around, aiming a kick to his neck. But at the last moment, Thor grabs her ankle and yanks. She goes flying into the dust.
"Stand down!"Another agent yells in his face, aiming a weapon with outstretched arms.
"No guns! We need him alive! No guns!" Someone screams.
Thor slaps the weapon from his fingers. The man looks shocked before his fist reels back for a punch to Thor's chin. Thor grapples with him, ignoring the disorienting shouts that start pouring in from all sides.
"Don't let him near it!"
"Radio channels unresponsive! Secure the perimeter! SECURE IT."
Thor grits his teeth throws the man over his shoulder. He runs, finding his feet clanging against the metal racking of a suspended landing. There's an open square to the ground, and the thin tarp-like covering which lines the metal framework of the area is ripped, letting in the bright natural light of outside in. Thor takes this all in while running, and then he spots it.
At the pit of the open area is a large crater, the hammer lays head first in the dirt, unmoved. Thor lets out a roar and jumps from the landing, feet skidding in the dust as he hits the ground. The tremors, the explosions, Loki's look of mischief as he disappeared— Thor knows these signs well. The AllFather has found out and sent the Destroyer to enforce the banishment. It is the only explanation. Thor's stomach twists.
The people in the town will be helpless to an onslaught under Odin's rage. Thor has seen worlds crumble in his father's wake. And yet... Thor must help. The odds are against his new mortality, but for the innocent humans who knew nothing of his status, his name, his wrongness... and still showed him kindness, still tried to help him.
Try he must.
He needs Mjölnir.
It's the only thought that races through his mind, like a tight needle tying all his thoughts together into a very strong knot. He's nothing without it.
Men and women try to block his path, but Thor pushes them down. He gets close enough to lay a hand on Mjolnir, fingers curling possessively.
But it does not move.
Anguish crashes into him as his muscles strain against the handle. His chest burns and Thor vaguely registers he is screaming. Light explodes into his eyes. The tarp covering has been ripped aside by another shockwave ransacking the compound. Its flimsy material is flapping against the cloudless sky. Soon more agents will be sent.
Thor is almost detached in a way, watching himself let go of the hammer, clenching his empty hand into a fist.
Not as Odinson then.
Just Thor.
He makes it out of the compound and into the range without being followed, but at a price.
Thor swallows at the dry craggy feeling in his throat. The sun sears down, pushing his eyelids into a low squint. This mortal body needs sustenance, the harsh elements and lack of energy taking its toll. He walks along the side of a road. Every so often there is a rumbling that sets the pebbles and dust flying as Thor recognizes as a car, racing away from town.
There's only one going back in.
Thor turns around at the sound, walking backwards and shielding his eyes against the glare. It is noisy, with a clank-clank-clank as it putters across the flat of the road to overtake him. Thor watches the back of the car forlornly before it pulls over to the side and stops, just ahead.
His first instinct is to eye the car with suspicion. An arm appears out the car's side, waving.
Thor approaches and looks through the window. "Kind sir, would you be travelling towards the village?"
"If you mean Puente Antiguo," The old man in the car looks like a pale prune with white hair and large darkened spectacles, "Hop in, kid. You look like toast."
"Thank you sir, I am spent," Thor smiles, piling into the front seat. "Might you have anything to eat?"
"Uh, maybe," The man replies, scratching at his head and pulling back onto the road. "Check the back seat, could be some Poptarts or something."
Thor immediately reaches back to forage.
"Name's Lee." The old man says after listening to long minutes of Thor's famished crunching, "You?"
Thor swallows around something called a 'Twinkie' and nods. "You may address me as Thor."
Lee lets out a small chuckle.
"My name amuses you."
"Nah. It's just different."
Thor pauses. Looks at himself in the side mirror, wondering if it's always been obvious. He chews his bottom lip, squinting at the dusty plains rolling by.
"You think me strange."
"Well, yeah."
"Good strange or bad strange?"
Lee laughs, the sound slamming into Thor like window shutters blasting open to let in a blinding ray of sun. Warm. Free. He does not answer right away, reaching towards the controls slowly to flip a switch.
Music fills the air.
"I'm not sure yet," Lee stretches and sinks back into his seat, "Only thing you can be sure of nowadays is that everyone is strange. And you know what, Thor? That's good."
"Wait, wait, wait! Is that Iron Man?" Darcy breathes in awe, her large eyes even wider as she struggles to keep an eye on the sky, fumble in her backpack and run at the same time. "Dammit, Jane! I've been waiting for this moment forever—Shit! I forgot the feds took my phone!"
"This is not the time!" Jane shouts. She can tell she's shouting because her throat hurts, but her ears are still ringing from the first blast. Darcy is almost loathe to leave, so Jane grabs her arm just as jets plow through the air overhead.
Then they're sprinting, stumbling around debris littering the path that used to be the quaint main road. Things have descended to chaos, people weaving in and out of buildings, fires blazing on the sidewalks. There's the sound of gunfire and it seems whatever that SHIELD agency was looking for is right on top of them as the jets attack whatever that huge metal thing is, wreaking havoc on the edge of town.
"Come on!" Erik shouts, frantically beckoning them behind an overturned car.
"Why is it—" Jane starts, then aborts her screaming at Eric and Darcy's cringes, "It's just standing there! Why not come closer?"
"Think its fine where it is!" Darcy yelps.
"We need to move, Jane," Erik implores, cupping her shoulder. She nods shakily just as there's a siren scream of heat that blows past the car, tipping it over right on top of them.
"AHA!" A mighty cry rips through her deafened eardrums. There's a screech of metal on metal and sparks cascade down as the weight of the car slams away, the alarm blaring to life then fizzling away in a puff of smoke from the two crunched halves of what used to be a SUV.
"Maidens, do not distress!" Someone says with gallant cadence and a parade of boots part the cloud of dust and smoke. Not to mention the armor and capes.
Jane blinks through the dirt streaking her face, speechless and terrified. Vaguely, she registers Darcy hugging her around the waist in terror.
The man who has spoken possesses coiffed blond hair and a boisterous grin, "Oh, and sir."
Erik gasps.
The tall—tall!— woman wearing an impressive breastplate kneels before Jane, "Greetings, fair lady. I am the Lady Sif. Please do not be alarmed. The Destroyer is a protector of Asgard sent wrongly."
"What... How... How did you get here?" Jane can scarcely finish her thought and beside her, Darcy starts muttering about her phone.
"The Bifrost."
Jane must be looking as flabbergasted as she feels because Sif scrunches her nose for a moment, then tries again, gesturing to her companions. "These are the Warriors Three; Fandral, Hogun, and Volstagg. There is no need to fear us. We are Aesir. Citizens of Asgard who come in peace."
"Pray tell us of Thor!" Fandral demands with a flourish.
"Thor?" Jane mouths. Her knees are shaking, her throat feels tight. She can barely call up her voice. "You know Thor?"
"Aye, he is our comrade. We have followed his path, as has the Destroyer."Hogun responds, raising a strange silver artifact that is emitting a faint glow. "The magical signature is strong."
"He's not here," Erik says quickly.
"Ah, the dramatic entrance!" Volstagg cries boldly, squinting at the sky with triumph, "He'll fly in, perhaps?"
Jane lets out a soft burst of laughter that she sincerely hopes doesn't edge on the brink of insanity, "I think we'd notice if he could fly."
"Thor is without his powers?" Fandral whispers with a frown.
"In banishment he may appear native to Midgard. However, the Allfather's magic is powerful and most likely conceals Thor's true self," Hogun casts a suspicious eye at the Destroyer, standing stock still in the distance.
"So what is he?," Darcy asks, "Some kind of monster underneath?"
"No." Sif replies with a sort of indignant confusion, "He is a prince."
There's a loud whirring in Jane's ears, as if she's underwater. Her mind is racing. It's like her whole career has been flipped upside down and then set on fire— literally in the case of the town!— so Jane understands the slightly embarrassing reaction of legs turning to jelly. Sif takes hold of Jane by the elbows to help her stand.
And the Jane falls back down again when a helicopter marked S.H.I.E.L.D. lands in the middle of the street.
"Afternoon!" Agent Coulson shouts blandly over the chopper's blades. Perched snugly against his ears are headphones and dark black shades block out his eyes. There's a bandage on the high point of his forehead.
The Asgardians draw their weapons at the new arrival.
"What are you doing here?" Erik yells back with hands covering his ears. The force of the downdraft blowing up one tuft of grey hair as he walks around the menacing wall of Asgardians.
"Oh. Just waiting for Thor." Coulson replies blithely. He looks Fandral up and down with a mildly curious tilt to his mouth for a moment, "Isn't that why everyone's standing around?"
"What magic have you placed upon Thor?" Volstagg squints one eye, scrutinizing the agent.
"We've had the whole town bugged for ages," Coulson replies and taps his nose. Hogun scowls and surreptitiously gives his artifact a little shake.
"Yeah, that's definitely legal," Darcy quips sarcastically.
"So you've known about our work. All of it," Erik deflates, "Since the beginning."
At Coulson's little nod Jane's jaw drops, "Why didn't you ever try to shut us down?"
"Intelligence is better left undisturbed until required—"Coulson pauses and then adds, "And not just your own, Ms. Foster."
"Well," Jane says breathlessly, gesturing to the Asgardians standing in the street's ruins, "I have it on good authority there's a lot you don't know."
"Unfortunately, we are extremely aware of that fact. Ah," Coulson looks at his watch and then smiles ruefully, "Here he is."
Down the street, an old car turns around the corner.
Old Lee leans until he's practically on top the steering wheel and lets out a long whistle, "That used to be my office! Looks like I'm permanently moving to Santa Fe." He sits back and smiles at Thor, "You could come with."
"You are very generous, thank you," Thor replies, not knowing quite where that is but hopes it is faring better than the quaint town he's spent the past few days.
"Hey," Lee pulls the car to a stop and adjusts his glasses. "You know them?"
"By the nines..."
"THOR!"
As soon as Thor spills into the street he finds himself in the middle of an embrace on all sides. The band of friends crush him, hard armor bumping and long hair tangling. Sif throws an arm around his neck in a headlock as Hogun and Fandral link arms with his and Thor goes face first into Volstagg's impressive beard.
"MY FRIENDS!" Thor cheers around the red curls. "Oh, I have missed you well! It has been so long!"
"It has only been a day," Fandral laughs with delight.
"An eternity!" Volstagg crows, smothering Thor into his shoulder.
Thor coughs, laughing, "Verily? But then, why are you here?"
"Well, time is relative," Jane says from the other side of what used to be the street and holds up one small hand, fingers waving. "Hi, Thor."
"Jane! Everyone!" Thor cannot seem to stop shouting. He feels so merry. "Son of Coul! You are well!"
Coulson smiles blandly.
Thor gestures between the two groups and Lee, "These are my friends!"
"We heard!" Darcy shouts back.
"Thor," Sif interjects, a thin line creasing between her brows, "We must make haste. If time passes faster in this realm then there is greater chance Loki has already acted."
"What?" Thor asks, his stomach freezing into a rock hard lump at the mention of his brother. "No, dear Sif. It is Odin. He must have..." Thor trails off, finding no desire in sharing his indiscretions. Surely, the Allfather must have seen his conduct with Loki and known to send further punishment.
"But that cannot be," Hogun's usual solemn expression deepens with a press of concern.
Fandral picks up where he leaves off, "The Allfather... Thor, he sleeps."
"What?" Thor gasps. It doesn't even sound like his voice.
"It is Loki who sent us to find you." Volstagg explains, his previous smile falling away like crumbs into his beard. "It is also he who controls the Destroyer."
Thor's struck by the image of Loki laughing breathlessly, white plaster tumbling across his dark hair and eyelashes and saying, "It was me, wasn't it?"
Thor swallows back the swell of disappointment pushing against the apple of his throat. The sear of the setting sun is a buzz which fills his ears, blocking everything out. Strange, that this would be the moment he'd come to dread.
The hot burst of tears comes so suddenly Thor is shocked when his eyes are filled with the warmth, a pair of salty tracks daring to spill if he blinks. He cannot comprehend the reaction and clenches his teeth, promising himself to remain calm. But there is an angry storm brewing under his skin.
For he has been made the fool by his very own Brother.
Loki has always been the sort to indulge in prolonged pursuits— there is a certain pleasure in the pull of a good string along, like a wine one drinks for months, drawn out, a taste to savour by the drop. Loki loves the attention his games receive, more than the playing pieces, more than the strategy. Loves to have the last laugh, to bask in the mayhem. Oh, he is an expert flirt. Always thinking several moves ahead, skirting the divides of danger and caution with a smile.
And Thor always dives right in.
It's all a magnificent punch line to a very cruel joke.
"Friends," When Thor speaks his voice is tight, controlled. He doesn't want to be angry, but is. "I regret I must remain here. If you go now perhaps peace shall be restored."
"You don't know that!" Jane declares, imploring, just as Volstagg cries with offense, "We're not leaving you here!"
Sif's consternation shows as she grips Thor's elbow with bruising strength, "We fear he has plot beyond mere jest this time. Thor, he has used your banishment as a diversion, a means to strand us in this realm whilst he occupies the throne. You must come back!"
The wind starts to pick up and down the road the flying craft's blades are beginning to whirl.
"Even though it's obvious I'm going to say it anyway," Agent Coulson says from the side, looking at a phone in his hand. "Someone has to deal with that thing— "He makes an abortive gesture towards the Destroyer, "Because it just flattened the town, our base, a slew of fighter jets and I'd really like to avoid calling in Tony Stark."
"I knew it!" Darcy snaps her fingers.
"We have already tried," Fandral complains. He's edging close to Darcy with an intrigued air. Erik surreptitiously steps in between the two.
"There is a high level protective magic newly placed upon its armor," Hogun clarifies and Volstagg finishes the thought, "Only Loki could have done so. It is evidence enough we've been double-crossed."
"Then there is only one option," Sif says with an urgency that stokes the flame in Thor's gut. "You must talk to Loki. Reason with him." The long black strands of Sif's hair brush across her cheek in a faint breeze and Thor is reminded with violent alacrity of when Loki cut it off. "He only listens to you."
Because my words are amusing to him, Thor thinks. Can almost hear it; the echo of laughter, chasing every thought. It matters not. Thor's finished with being the cause of guilt. Of being guilty for himself. He must make things right.
"Then I will go," Thor turns to his Aesir friends who have perked up, weapons ready, "But alone. You must return to the Bifrost site. Be ready to return to Asgard."
Sif and the Warriors Three pause only for the barest moments, "We will, Thor."
They trust him. It is a balm, their solemn nods and confidence. Coulson appears by their side, gesturing with a hike of the thumb. "They can come with me. Helicopter's heading that way now."
Thor takes a deep breath and looks to the good people of Midgard who have become his friends. "Jane, Erik, Darcy... Please go with Lee away from here. It is dangerous."
"But—"Jane interrupts herself with a step into Thor's personal space.
Her delicate face is hard with a determination that is encouraging, calms him just enough. She is an exceptional example of intelligence and kindness and curiosity. He wants her to know this, somehow. He regrets being so wrapped up in his own tangles that he knows not what to say. He's never known what to say. There's too much he has no words for.
The helicopter's pulsing wind picks up their hair as he kisses her hand.
And then Jane leaps to her tiptoes to return the kiss on his lips.
"Jane," Thor starts, stops for lack of anything better to say. He leans back as much as he can without seeming reproachful.
"It's okay," Jane understands. She must, because she's so smart and gives a little shake of her head a sort of embarrassed motion. "Of course. Of course, you're..."
Thor tenses.
"You. You were telling the truth." Jane grins and ducks her head, biting her lip. When she looks up again, the sun has caught her smile and it is a beautiful thing. "Magic really does exist."
Thor smiles back, and touches her neck. "I wish you to know, we meant not to attack this world. I will speak with my Brother and all will be resolved."
"Hey, a little danger doesn't shock me," Jane says and pokes his hand away as if to zap him with a taser, voice bubbling and open like the half of a fond memory shared. "Besides, I'll get used to it. You're now officially on my research team. It'd save me the trouble of taking a crash course in Norse Mythology."
"I will return safely." Thor says, meaning it. How could he not? He has friends here. People who'd seen the worst of him and yet still loved.
"You'd better. There's still so much I have to learn."
"There is always more to learn. That is the lesson I've found here," Thor steps back.
In Asgard, there is a separation. When you live behind a shield, a line in drawn between your good and bad. It becomes a fight, a struggle to keep out what shames you. But he couldn't protect himself with shields here on Midgard. The lines had to be erased, fears faced, and eventually— Everything cancels out.
Everything is so much simpler when you're just you.
It's like he's walked into a bit of light that's just right. Everything about him, filtered through a prism, splitting up into something so much more. It seems Midgard is the facet in which Thor has shone the brightest.
He will never forget this.
Thor watches as his friends pile into Lee's car. He reads the simple plate on its rear as it withdraws— STAN. The helicopter propels up into the air, the weight of Sif and the Warriors Three hanging out of the open sides makes it wobble around.
As their presence recedes, it feels as though he's stepped into the shallow washes of a tide. The Destroyer towers in the distance like a lighthouse, the vast unknown stretching out like a sea. But the warmth of the shore and his friends still laps at his skin, a tickling reminder.
Thor squints at the horizon, the hot plains of the New Mexico desert crusting his vision in a gold gilded frame.
He would forgive Loki, of course. He would forgive Loki anything. Perhaps that is all they both need.
But when he walks towards the edge of town alone and says his piece, shouts to Loki that he is sorry, for anything he has done to cause pain— the Destroyer strikes him down.
Dead.
The magic tying Thor to his mortal form unravels with the lethal hit. Power tears through his body, like fire in his veins, bright whips of pain. A long nerve of lightning in the pitch black sky. This is what it is to die.
And then in the very moment after, he is bursting, swathed in a cocoon of magic as old as it is born anew. His heartbeat is in every piece of his armor as it comes to embrace him. His cape is another limb of the wind. He is infused as the markings of his true self wrap around his arms like molten metal. The sudden weight of a familiar weapon in his hand somehow feels so very light.
Because now he is not afraid to let go.
All Thor's power surges out from the very inside of him until he is encased in the person he has always been.
And when the God of Thunder comes back he destroys the Destroyer with one mighty swing of Mjölnir.
With stone around his heart he flies to the Bifrost site and together with Sif and the Warriors Three, their bodies refract into a rainbow of light and they go tearing across the realms.
But it's not Heimdall waiting for them on the other side.
"Thor."
Loki greets with a whisper, a fierce glint in his eyes. Gungnir, the spear of Odin is a length of proud gold standing in his grasp. The light of the bridge has turned the sky into a fiery opal curtain, one that wavers like summer heat.
"Go to the palace, find Heimdall," Thor tells his friends in a voice dark and rumbling, one he scarcely recognizes except on battlefields.
"We'll help—" Fandral steps forward but Thor raises Mjölnir in warning.
"No. He is my brother."
"That's the thing, Thor," Loki tilts his head as they retreat, their mistrusting glares searing across his face until he's smiling. He looks at Thor with a sort of wonderment, "I'm not your brother. I never was."
Quick as lightning, Loki's empty hand curls around air as if he's grasping a rope then he pulls back with a snap— a lash of magic grinds the Bifrost into another position. It points to where Thor knows Jotunheim lays. Then with a thrust, Gungnir shoots a bolt of power towards the Bifrost's golden orb. It splinters the surface, cracks spidering out until the orb shatters wide open. Streaks of energy spike forth from the shell, long pillars of light solidifying into crystals that look like icicles.
The shock of the explosions flings Thor forwards and he lands in a heap, face first at Loki's feet. When he looks up Loki's face is a study in shadows, the dark cutting across the light in designs which make him appear as a stranger.
"Loki," The words punch their way right out of Thor, "You have condemned all of Jotunheim to destruction!"
"That's the plan." Loki says, voice lilting as he stares down. "And I must say it's been going along quite well. Be a good boy and stay out of the way."
Thor leaps to his feet, "You cannot—!"
"Oh, but I can, and I have." Loki struts around him, chin held high. He sweeps Gungnir in a wide arrogant arc, Thor at its center point. "Here you are, in Asgard again. Your banishment, ended. Your powers, restored. And very soon, those vile creatures who dared to interrupt your coronation shall be gone." He looks over his shoulder, "This is by my will."
"What?" Thor breathes, "But Father—"
Loki sneers as though just remembering something contemptible, voice wavering just slightly. An echo of the inexplicable hurt Thor has seen in those green eyes before. The same pain, as though time has not moved. "I'm glad you so easily assumed Odin was to blame. Then again, why wouldn't you? It's so easy to do something nasty in plain sight when sitting on a throne."
The bridge quakes underneath their feet. Its usual lively surface strobes with individual colours, as if being shaken apart by red, gold, green, blue. The vibrations go up Thor's spine, makes his bones rattle. Only Mjölnir is a steady constant in his hand, but he does not wish to use it. Wants to try and do this as just Thor.
"In truth, I was counting on pitting Odin and Laufey against each other, then dear old Dad had to fall asleep. But this is far better. Kingship," Loki grins madly, twirling Gungnir, "I could get used to it. Just think about it.— You and I, side by side. We can both be kings of wherever we please once I'm done."
Screams of agony begin to resonate from the shattered Bifrost. The screeching of the uncontained energy slices through the voices, but Thor can hear them all the same. No one is laughing except Loki now.
"LOKI, STOP THIS."
"Aww, what made you so soft?" Loki croons, condescending. And then, with ruthless irony, strikes with precision, "A woman, Thor?"
Thor's blood boils and the lid of his rage is split off with the hard impact of Loki's spear across his cheek.
Loki's voice contorts into something dark; contempt yanking at the sides of lips so hard his smile becomes a painful looking thing, all teeth and no glee.
"I can fix that too."
The next second sees Loki lunging, a stab of energy surging from the tip of Gungnir. Thor's pinned in place by the sizzling, like the sharp bite of a taser multiplied by a hundredfold. But Thor breaks from it, dodges Loki's next jab, grabs him by the elbow and swings him around. Loki goes flying in the arc of a high trajectory but Gungnir pierces the rainbow bridge before he can crash. He swirls around its shaft, long legs like a pendulum to kick to Thor's chest.
This is where Thor is best.
He summersaults back into action to see Loki split into copies of himself, arranged in a semi-circle. They all take a step forward, trying to enclose Thor, but he twirls Mjölnir in a fist then lets it go, the rock solid hammer flying in a curve through all the apparitions until it smacks into the real Loki and throws him off his feet.
Loki multiplies again, littering the bridge with persons of varying expressions. One unstable, another gleeful. Thor can see a mournful Loki as well as one who's out of breath. Another just standing, with a strangely adoring shine to his eyes.
"What did you think was going to happen?" The clones scream at him as one, "Thought you could stay there and kiss her and you'd wake up changed— to the way you thought everyone wanted you to be?"
"No!"
Thor leaps and then slams knees first into the ground, spins faster than a blink. His cape sweeps hard enough to cut with a flash of red before he knocks the hammer down. All the clones topple in the shockwave.
"I am the one who's always given you what you want!" The real Loki continues, grunting and sounding almost deranged as he struggles to his feet, spear at the ready. "Me! Even when you not yet knew what you so dearly wanted!"
"I do not want this!" Thor shouts back, steadying Mjölnir. They're at a face off.
"Hadn't you ever wondered? Why no one ever breathed a word of your insecurities—your indiscretions?" Loki lets out a bark of laughter, sounding almost lost, sounding desperate to make Thor see. "How vain, Thor. You never even considered there was someone else cleaning up your mess."
Cold dread and realization coat the inside of Thor's stomach as Loki continues.
"But it's a shame, really, that most believe jealousy to be disgusting, ugly, worthless. Why, there's worth in vibrancy, isn't there?No feeling quite like a dagger in the heart. I always thought of it like sliding a sword into fire. Jealous people don't bleed. They burn." Loki tilts his head, a soft pull at the corner of his lips giving the illusion of a smile. He brings one porcelain hand to smear away the spittle from his chin. "But how I've loved to see it in your eyes. We are more alike than you think."
"What are you saying?" Thor pants. He can feel that same dread bubbling up in his stomach, threatening to choke him on its bitterness. That this is all another move in one of Loki's games; that they're both losing and the only way to not be completely defeated is to keep playing.
"Do you think he thought himself innocent, when your friends went to quiet him?" There's a note of wildness in Loki's voice, "The horseman, I mean. Just because it was I who borrowed his body doesn't mean it wasn't his fault."
"You... you!?" Thor seethes, teeth bared at the sudden unexpected deepness of the barb. A day which felt like an eternity ago, a day he tried so hard to forget. A wrong committed not perfectly to memory. "It can't— I," He tries to remember the details, anything that could prove Loki wrong.
"Sorry." Loki's grin is terrible because it's so sweet, so soft. His voice cradling the words tenderly, "I'm sorry, Thor. Memory erasers, you know. Don't have a counter spell."
The image of Loki pacing in Thor's chambers, of a storm building outside as Thor raged within. A look of intimate pain and anger upon Loki's face as he kissed Thor, promised protection. 'I know spells. Memory erasers.'
It never occurred to him he might be the one spelled.
"If what you say is true," Thor blinks back the awful tears which stand burning in his eyes, "You need not have snuck around, played your games... Made a fool of me!Of what I... I am your Brother."
"NO you are NOT." Loki screams, high pitched in fury. And then the words that follow dip low and menacing, until he's whispering angrily, the gloss of vengeful tears in his gaze. "How many times did I comfort you? Protect you? Are you truly so stupid to not see, how often I encouraged your attentions?"
And the memories Thor does have flood in. The slice of a promise in a palm, blood mixing. A braid in Thor's hair. Every sly smile, every knowing look thrown his way. Of Loki catching rain. A kiss blown across the gardens and Loki's turned up brows and soft seeking lips. Of every time he asked for what Thor sorely wanted to give.
With a cry Thor hurls the hammer and Loki's thrown off his feet, pinned underneath its unmovable weight. Loki struggles in outrage and Thor drops to his knees beside him.
"Why?" The word rips at his throat, hysterical, leaning overtop Loki as his helmet falls away. "Why would you do this? Why?"
Loki begins to laugh.
Thor cannot help but shake him wretchedly by the shoulders, slam him against the opalescent ground. Make him stop. Just make him stop playing, stand still. Face the here and now instead of looking into the distance for something only he can see.
"Why?"
Loki stares back, silent. Then tilts his head.
"Thor, can't you see? I've always known," Loki breathes out and reaches up to delicately touch Thor's chest. Thor can feel each fingertip like a print against his heart, like Mjölnir pressing down on him a hundredfold. A mirror image. It hurts.
Loki smiles with something akin to sadness in his eyes, "That you like men."
"I don't—" Thor begins to deny.
"That you love me."
A hot tear curls away from Loki's eye, "And no one else will. Not now. Not when I've wiped everyone out. So you don't get to stop."
Love.
It can be something beautiful or wretched. Something private, something shared. All parallels as one, like strands in rope— something that's been twisted tighter and tighter between them but never gets small enough. Maybe it was inevitable the feeling would unwind, snap back on them with a dangerous explosion. Now it has become vaster than the open sky, a push and pull and spin of emotion. A thousand daggers spelling out what cannot be spoken on the walls of their minds, a feeling Thor has never been able to kill. Pull the blades away and all the damning thoughts come spilling out.
"I haven't. I couldn't." There's an awful lurch, as if Thor's just run himself through on a blade. He swallows back the swell of conflicting emotions that threaten to overwhelm; hope and shame, love and anger. Vice-like panic clenches down tight on his stomach. "But you cannot do this."
The light of the screeching Bifrost casts Loki in pale blue but the shine in his eyes is gone, a soulless look to his ashen face. He says, "Tell me why not."
Thor turns swiftly, steeling himself to do what must be done. The broken Bifrost burns like a star before him, a mess he's going to clean up. And this lonely walk is different from the one that came before— everything is chaos. He is who he is. Time to cut ties from the shore and just dive.
Wordlessly the hammer comes to his hand and the first swing is fluid as it hits the bridge. The second and third shake him; the fourth causes the road to flash white, the painful white right before a break.
Behind him Loki gets up with a jump, soaring towards him.
"Keep going, Thor," Loki whispers angrily as he raises Gungnir high, its head pointed towards the shining ground at their feet. "At least we won't bebrothers. Not if we're both dead."
The spear pierces into the bridge just as Thor slams Mjölnir down a fifth time and everything explodes into the blinding crash of magic, light and sound.
There is some truth to Jane's theory of the big bang, Thor realizes. People only try to find their way back together when everything's blown apart.
And anyone who has ever felt guilty for being who they are can still save the world.