Thank you guys so much for your warm response to the last chapter. I have quite the tender spot for chapter 32 and to hear that you guys really liked it warms my heart so much. You guys really are the best and I love you. Heart heart~
But anyway, with chapter 32 done, we have reached what I call the last stretch, or more accurately, the last sprint down a jagged mountain cliff toward a rushing white water river. There are still quite a number of chapters left, but we've got some pretty heavy stuff ahead of us. There are some more chapters ahead to which I am dying to read your guys' reactions.
Also, I think some people have been questioning, and I forget that not all my readers read my tumblr, so just an FYI: Syrgja in its entirety IS already finished in its writing and has been ever since New Year's. I am still playing around with the last chapter but storyline wise it's pretty much set in stone.
Enjoy!
The first full sentence Loki said in years was, "Thank you, you idiot."
And the moment Thor heard Loki's voice and sat up from his bed, Loki was almost certain Thor's heart had stopped a little and worried that Thor would drop dead of shock that very moment and everything would be for naught.
But instead, as Loki stumbled toward Thor's bedside Thor wrestled off his covers to pull Loki close to him, holding him so tightly Loki thought he would crack. But this contact, this warmth and gentleness stunned him.
Thor choked, words struggling to escape his mouth—any sound at all—but he was shocked out of sound, rendered speechless as his heart and mind raced. The irony, Loki thought as he listened to Thor's ragged breathing of elation and astonishment—Loki spoke, and Thor was struck mute. He rubbed Thor's back, tracing circles on him with his hand, letting himself close his eyes as he sank into Thor's embrace.
"Thank you, Thor," Loki said. It hurt his throat to speak, and his lips and tongue were still unused to speech that they slurred and crackled intermittently, but he knew Thor cared not. He wished he could confess more, allow Thor to know more, but he was so tired and he didn't know if he could find the right words to squeeze all that truth into. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Thank you."
"Thank the Norns," said Thor into Loki's hair. His voice was thick and painful to the throat, painful even for Loki to hear. "Oh, Loki, you've no idea—this is—I'm so—" He let out a small, damp laugh. "Heavens, what are the words? I can't believe this. I love this. I—I—"
"You are not Silvertongue for a good reason," said Loki.
Thor laughed, ruffling Loki's hair and pulling away. He placed both hands on Loki's shoulders, giving him a gentle shake. The dregs of sleep still clung to his eyelids, after being roused in the earliest hours of the morning, but his smile was honest and bright.
"I would have you insult me all day, just to make up for all the years," said Thor.
"It will come in time," said Loki. He cleared his throat when his voice began to fail on him. "The source certainly hasn't run dry."
"Oh, how I know it," said Thor. His smile slipped away and his face softened, eyes bright and wide with relief and wonder. "I do not think you know how glad I am to listen to you again."
"Seems like most people don't expect me to know much," said Loki.
Thor let out a choked chuckle, letting his hands fall from Loki's shoulders. In truth, Loki had never expected this much joy from Thor; he did not doubt his older brother's love and loyalty, but for so long he had always expected to be silenced with a sharp interjection or a glare.
"Speak to me, please," said Thor. "Talk with me. No—it is a late hour, I do not want to tire you. But—you speak again, you are not afraid, and—oh, what do I do? I'm so joyous and yet I need to be practical. What are you doing up at this hour?"
Loki stifled a chuckle, shaking his head. "Of all the questions and—and concerns that are in your head, that is the one you choose to—to—to ask?"
His voice faltered and he coughed, trying to exercise its strength. Thor jumped back, torn between comforting Loki and taking action to do whatever need be done, if only he knew what.
"Water? Perhaps water will soothe your throat?" said Thor. Before Loki could consent, Thor bounded from his bedside to his private bathroom, where he filled a glass cup full of cold water. He immediately brought it back to Loki, not at all unlike those childhood moments when Loki was ill and Thor was more than eager to please, and Loki couldn't help but roll his eyes as he accepted it. He took a small sip, letting the water calm his sandpaper tongue and coarse throat.
"Thank you," said Loki, still bound by a stutter. "Thor, I…" His words failed him and he pressed his lips together, trying to shape the words. Speech was still a struggle, his muteness difficult to overcome like a limp from a sprained ankle. He gave a defeated chuckle before letting his head hang low.
Thor did not press on, only nodding reassuringly and giving a gentle grip on Loki's arm.
"Do not push yourself too hard," said Thor. "Take your time and save your strength. You need your rest, Loki."
"I am not so delicate," said Loki, but his eyelids were heavy from all those tears and tiredness, and he could barely spare enough breath to speak louder. He could hear retreating footsteps outside the room through the small crack of an opening of Thor's door—Natasha retreated from her post as silent moral support for Loki, giving the brothers privacy. He no longer felt anxious.
"You know how much I enjoy overprotecting you," said Thor with a crooked smile. Loki snorted and drank the rest of the water.
"I speak," said Loki. He could barely believe it himself. He nearly forgot the sound of his own voice; it was thin and grating, after what felt like a long period of fitful sleep, and his wily tongue was yet to be tamed. "I speak, I speak—what if my voice fails me? I do not want to stop or chatter the night away."
"You will not lose your tongue in the middle of the night," said Thor. "You have more will than that, I know."
"You always thought exceedingly high of me," said Loki. "It's almost worrying."
"You've yet to prove that I truly cannot," said Thor. "More water?"
"I'm sure Mother said to look after me, not serve me hand and foot."
Thor laughed, but silenced himself when it became too loud for even Tony's walls. He sighed, his eyes shining in the dark.
"I think I've done a poor job looking after you if so much has happened to you once she left," said Thor. "I've been awful at it indeed."
"Don't take the credit for my…ah, recklessness," said Loki. He rubbed his throbbing head, no doubt weakened by lack of sleep. "The both of us are still breathing, and that's more than we can promise to anyone."
"Oh, Norns," said Thor. He leaned back on the headboard of his bed, his head falling against the wall. "I sound like a pining maiden, but—to hear your voice again—"
"You certainly do sound like one."
"To hear your voice again—I'm relieved. I'm surprised—confused, even—but joyous. Loki, whoever has healed you, whoever has helped you find your words, let me name a constellation after them in commemoration. Was it Agent Romanoff?"
Loki's bottom jaw twitched. "Very astute."
"It was, was it not?" said Thor. "I'll seek bards to compose songs for her honor."
"By now, you've had them write for you entire operas."
Thor grinned, but his smile fell as he leaned forward to take a better look at Loki's face. Loki backed away immediately, his head spinning at the sudden movement.
"Are you well, Loki?"
Loki cleared his throat. "Why?"
"I—you—well, you have not uttered a word since…for so long, and now you speak as if all those years before were merely the length of an hour," said Thor. "What has changed? Is it out of peace or illness?" Thor's face paled, as if the thought that Loki finally spoke because he was minutes from dying crossed his mind.
"You worry so much," said Loki, speaking slowly to shape his words.
Thor tilted Loki's face just enough so that the light from the nightlight on the wall barely illuminated his face. His thumb trailed down the path that Loki's tears long dried upon and Loki took his wrist to quietly stop him. Thor opened his mouth, but relented to keep his silence.
"I am fine," said Loki. "Only rather lightheaded, and that is nothing."
"Are you ill?" said Thor.
"No, I'm not. So don't think about cosseting me like a pup," said Loki. He rubbed his eyes, the sockets aching as if something was pressing against the back. "Can I…may I…?" He hesitated before shaking his head. "I have interrupted your slumber. I should let us both depart to rest."
"Oh, Loki, you fool," said Thor. "Stay with me tonight, will you not?"
Loki mentally cursed himself for his verbal slip, and nearly cursed Thor for being perceptive, but liberatingly declared to hell with his insatiable, unstable pride, and let himself slide next to Thor on the bed. The left side, which he always claimed as his own when in their youth they hungered company and warmth in shivering nights. Thor pulled the covers over him and Loki scowled, despite welcoming the comfort.
"This will not be a habit," said Loki, stifling a yawn.
Thor snickered as he buried his face into his pillow. "Of course not, brother. Whatever you say."
Loki did not bother to request that JARVIS keep anyone from witnessing this nostalgia. His pride had long been shot already.
By the time Loki woke up, his head was nearly splitting. The sun had long risen, firmly set in the sky at nine thirty in the morning, and by the looks of it, Thor had been awake and away for a while. Loki pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes, trying to squeeze away the ache. Apparently lack of sleep did not hammer his head, and he wondered for a wild moment if everything from last night, from Natasha to Thor, was a mere dream and in reality he had been inebriated on Midgardian ale until he was cursed with this hangover.
He crawled out of the bed and cleaned himself in Thor's bathroom, his mind struggling to race in spite of the dull ache that barely subsided. He had spoken last night—he had spoken—and there was no guilt, no anger, no betrayal in the words he said. He spoke, and for once he did not hurt with his words. The thought made his heart fly, and he feared bumping too roughly against the sink or moving too quickly in case all of this was truly a dream and he would be pulled into reality.
"I am Loki," he whispered to the mirror. He watched his thin lips shape those words and heard that voice breathe life into the meaning. "I am Loki, and I can speak. And I shall speak."
His heart jolted at the thought and he swallowed hard. Fear and doubt would intermittently seize him, making him consider regretting opening his mouth, but he remembered Natasha's lips kissing his tears away and Thor's hearty embrace and he banished the thoughts.
"I am Loki, and I will not be afraid of myself," said Loki. His lips stretched into a grin when he heard it with his own ears. "I will not be afraid of anything."
He shivered—either from the wonder or from the bout of faintness or both, he did not know. He drew in a deep breath and strode from the room, down the hall, toward where the others would congregate in the sunroom.
In there were Steve and Clint, bent over their respective books in the sunlight. Loki couldn't help but wonder how grown adults such as these two could have so much leisure time. He opened his mouth, about to greet them a good morning or something along those lines, but he hesitated a second too long and the words already withered away. He clenched his teeth, berating himself mentally.
Steve looked up from his book and his face brightened. "Oh, Loki! G'morning—Bruce was looking for you, actually. He said he wanted to make sure your health was up to par, with the glove and all, you know."
"My God, did you even get any sleep last night?" said Clint. "You look like you got drugged with roofies and then got beat up with a couple of baseball bats before being dragged through grits."
Steve looked as if he didn't know whether to frown disapprovingly or look positively horrified. Loki stole a glance at his reflection on the window. He didn't think he looked exceptionally worse, but of course, during these past several decades he wasn't exactly looking up to par either.
"Are you feeling ill?" said Steve. "Maybe Bruce should check on that…I mean—" He jumped out of his seat. "We've got Advil, if you're in any pain, or Ibuprofen if you're going down with something. I don't know how well over-the-counter pills work for you, but it can't do more damage than good, right?"
"That's probably what the world thought when they still used leeches for surgeries," said Clint.
"Where is Bruce?" said Loki.
"I think we have more confidence in pills than—wait, what?"
Steve turned sharply to Loki, his eyes widening. Clint gawked, his jaw dropping. Loki couldn't help but feel a mixture of satisfaction and discomfort—satisfaction that he managed to surprise them so abruptly, discomfort that they were gaping at him like he was a fish dancing on its fins in front of them.
"Did you—? Did you just—?" said Steve.
"Holy shitballs," said Clint, running a hand through his hair.
"Wait, wait, wait," said Steve. "Loki, you didn't just—I mean…leaping lizards." He rubbed his forehead. "Loki, this is—oh my word, this is wonderful!"
He clapped a hand on Loki's shoulder and gave it a supportive squeeze. Loki had no idea how to respond to that—they acted as if he had been voted president of the entire country and was set on saving a starving nation. How did they truly care about whether or not he spoke?
"Is this real life?" said Clint. He threw his book to the ground and pressed his hands against the side of his head. "Don't tell me that all it took for him to talk was to prompt him to ask where Bruce was. We could have done that months ago."
"No," Loki said flatly.
Clint groaned inwardly and rubbed his face as if he had just stepped off a nerve-wracking roller coaster.
"Who else did you talk to? Was it Thor? Was that why he looked so happy this morning?" said Steve.
"Will you never tell me where Bruce is?" said Loki.
"Oh—right, right," said Steve, his cheeks reddening. "JARVIS, can you call Bruce here? Tell him Loki asked for him. Literally!"
It ought to unnerve Loki how Steve had as much excitement as a father holding his newborn for the first time, but he felt strangely touched by his enthusiasm. It was as if Steve had been waiting for this for a long time. Clint, on the other hand, was still utterly baffled.
"You are enthusiastic," said Loki.
"I'm not scaring you, am I?" said Steve. "It's just that…wow, I'm happy for you. I was afraid that you'd never want to talk to anyone again, and—well, that's not the case, and that's great."
Loki raised his eyebrows. All the words that Steve ever heard Loki say were words of death threats and anger. What convinced Steve that he had anything less hateful to say? He couldn't help but snort despite the smile on his face, shaking his head.
"Foolish," said Loki. "Absolutely foolish."
The sunroom's door cracked open and Loki spun around quickly. Bruce was at the door, a panting Tony right behind him. Bruce opened his mouth to say something, but Tony shoved him out of the way before planting a punch at Loki's shoulder. Loki stumbled back, confounded and partly insulted.
"You little shit," said Tony. "You're talking and you didn't freaking tell me?"
Loki jaw dropped, completely at a loss of words against his own will. Tony tried to punch him again until Loki intercepted, shoving him into Steve.
"Tony, you don't get to be the first at everything," said Bruce with a humored sigh.
"And no one considered telling me he was opening his damn mouth either?" said Tony. "I am so ashamed of you all. No martinis for any of you. Any of you."
"How did you find out?" said Clint.
"I happened to be in the same room as Bruce. Science buddies, remember?" said Tony. "And I was hoping that I was included in this calling, but no, no one tells me anything when Loki finally talks. Oh my God, can I record this? Can I put this on YouTube?"
"Tony, he isn't your newborn baby," said Bruce.
"And this is why no one told you," said Clint with a flourished hand gesture.
"I apologize, Tony," said Loki. "And when I learn how to take my first step and use a chamber pot on my own, I will be sure to tell you."
Tony gawked at Loki, as if he had sheltered doubt that Loki actually was beginning to talk, before a banana-wide grin dawned upon his face. He reached up and—before Loki could stop him—ruffled Loki's hair.
"This kid's a sassy little Bambi," said Tony. "It's official. He really is my newborn baby."
"Oh, God," said Clint.
"How are you feeling, Loki?" said Bruce, forcing the conversation back on subject. "Are you feeling all right ever since the glove and arc reactor?"
"What the hell got him to start talking?" Tony said before Clint tackled him to shut him up.
"Fine," said Loki. "I'm fine. And…" His words lingered, but he brushed his headache aside. He could withstand a migraine, if anything.
"Are you sure?" said Bruce. "No energy depletion? Weakness?"
"Does Thor know?" said Tony.
"I'm perfectly fine," said Loki.
"This is coming from the guy who tried dragging himself out of a medical bay with only one functioning arm," said Bruce.
"Yes, thank you for reminding me," said Loki, his eyebrow twitching.
Bruce shrugged, unable to suppress a satisfied smile. "My point. But really, Loki…it's great to hear you talk again. It really is."
"We just need to hear him laugh now," said Tony. "Or sing. Or scream. Then we've got Loki back."
Loki rubbed his temples, his eyes stinging. He turned to the wide window where the sunlight bodily pressed against, pretending that the blinding light made his eyes sting.
"Let me check your throat," said Bruce. "You haven't talked in a long while and you sound a little unwell still."
"I don't think a worn throat will inhibit me greatly, Doctor," said Loki. He pressed a hand against his eyes, trying to squeeze the smarting from his eyelids.
"Where's Natasha and Thor?" said Steve. "Do they know yet?"
"I bet Thor's handing out free cigars somewhere," said Tony. "Natasha is still sleeping, I thought."
"Well, once everyone's all settled in here, let's have some sort of—"
"Let's talk about Thanos," said Loki.
Even without seeing anyone, he could feel all gazes turn to him.
"I thought you told Thor everything," said Steve.
"Barely," said Loki. "And even if I told him everything I know, that is not everything."
He felt as if Mjölnir was ramming against the inside of his skull and he leaned against the wall, trying to keep himself from falling. Someone put a hand on his shoulder and he shrugged it away immediately.
"He is not a beast hibernating until the spring and rouses to rage," said Loki. "Something happens now. It happened yesterday, and it will happen soon. He—"
His voice caught in his throat when his heart punched his chest so painfully he nearly stumbled forward. He clenched his teeth, trying to swallow down a gasp of surprise and pain. His head spun and he feared that it would spin right off his neck and whiz into space like the Captain's shield.
"Loki?" said Steve. "Are you okay?"
"Fine," said Loki. His jaw refused to move and he had to force the bones to let the word out.
"No, you're not," said Bruce. He put a supporting hand on Loki's arm and firmly pulled him from the wall. "What's hurting?"
"Nothing," said Loki. "Don't be silly." He jerked his arm away from Bruce. He didn't understand—was he ill? Did the arc reactor not work? His blood felt cold when he understood that it was not his heart twisting in his chest in pain, but the Mind Gem—muzzled, chained, and half-mad.
"You shouldn't be silly," said Bruce. "Tony, help me take out this arc reactor. I think it's reacting badly."
"No!" Loki pushed Bruce away, a little too roughly. He clenched his teeth in immediate regret, but he kept a protective hand on his chest. "No—don't take it out." He closed his eyes, shuddering when a wave of unnatural pain erupted from his chest. "I must be ill. My magic is not used to being free. I've experienced this before."
"Should we get Thor?" said Steve. "Would he know what to do?"
"Don't bother, he wouldn't understand magic if it slapped him in the face with Gungnir," said Loki. He swallowed hard, tasting blood and vomit. "I should go."
"Let me follow you," said Steve, pursing his lips.
"I am not a child," said Loki. "I don't need people dogging my footsteps."
"We aren't dogging your footsteps," said Steve. "What if you get ill halfway? What if—?"
Loki couldn't stand to listen to the rest of what Steve had to say. He pushed his way out of the room and staggered to the closest washroom, clutching the side of his head as if that was all it took to keep it upright on his neck. He locked the door behind him and let out a gasp, swallowing air before he could drown.
He forced himself to look at the mirror above the sink, knocking over soap bottles and incense candles as he struggled to keep himself standing. When he locked eyes with his reflection, he wanted to scream. The green that he claimed, the green eyes, flickered. Blue speckled his irises like violent fireworks, pulsing with as many threats as a disease underneath a microscope. When blue grew stronger, his sight faded—his heart raced—he was losing control.
He breathed heavily—ragged gasps as he tried to force his mind into his own hands. Thanos banged at the doors of Loki's consciousness like a foreign army trying to break down the castle gates. The Mind Gem curdled in depowered rage, yowling like a tortured victim as the arc reactor crushed its hunger, and tried to tear Loki apart in its attempt to free itself to let Thanos manipulate it to his will.
Loki struck himself in the chest. His ribs shuddered and the Mind Gem thrashed in protest. He hit again—and again—trying to banish Thanos from his body. He felt Thanos' influence try to seep into his senses, forced back painfully by the arc reactor until it bottled up inside his chest like firepower. He let out a sharp gasp and doubled over, keeping himself on his feet with his elbows against the counter.
"No more, Thanos," Loki said.
He bared his teeth; his reflection looked feral.
"You lose," said Loki. "You will lose, you lose, you lose."
Another sharp pain ensnared his senses and he drove his fist onto the marble counter to regain his control. He fought to breathe before being submerged in a fit of lost control. He could feel the edges of his mind fray as the Thanos' influence tore at the seams. He let out a growl, clutching both sides of his head, his limbs shaking with tampered power.
Thanos could not know what Loki knew. If he knew what Loki saw, he would know what Loki thought. If he saw what Loki knew of his plans, then—
He opened his eyes and he found himself on the ground, his limbs convulsing. He didn't recall falling and he panicked.
"Get up, Loki," he said. "Come, you can manage at least that on your own. Up!"
He sucked in a deep breath and forced himself onto unsteady feet. He could barely support himself. He thought he could hear Thanos' voice in the back of his mind, although the words were inaudible. The color of his eyes flashed like madness.
"Enough," Loki said in a haggard voice. "Enough—you are weaker than I."
His eyes flashed bright blue and his sight blacked out. He gave out a yell and slammed his fists against the glass. He heard the mirror splinter and relished the feeling of pain in his skin—the sensibility of senses.
"You lose," Loki said through gritted teeth. "You try to use me, but I am not your tool. Do you understand me, Thanos? I am not your tool."
The pain swelled in his chest and he fought. He did not hear the insistent banging on the bathroom door as he drove his fist over and over again into the mirror, trying to subdue his own power to rein in the Mind Gem's.
"Do you hear me?" said Loki. "Listen to me speak. I have beaten you—and you know I am a threat now. You know and you will try to be rid of me even earlier than you have planned but you will be defeated."
A wave of nausea hit Loki and darkness swallowed him. He felt his knees meet painfully with the bathroom tiles and he clung to the edge of the sink. The moment he fell, the door was kicked open with a resonating thud, shocking Loki back into his senses. Clint burst into the bathroom, weapon at hand and a blazing look on his face.
"What's happening?" said Clint. "What's attacking you?"
Clint saw the shattered mirror and Loki's bleeding hands and he immediately dropped his weapon. He roughly grabbed Loki's wrists, trying to still him. Loki kept his gaze wide and away from Clint, in case the arc reactor failed.
"Thanos is nosing his way in again," Loki said with a dry chuckle. He swallowed down the pain. "Arc reactor—not making it easy for either of us."
"Guys!" Clint shouted, trying to calm Loki down. "Guys, a little help in here!"
Something screamed in Loki's head, but he couldn't force the voice away. He couldn't understand what it said, but it pounded against his ears and infected his thoughts until he couldn't tell what was his and was not. He swallowed down vomit.
"No," said Loki. "Don't let them in—don't let me see them."
"What?" said Clint. "Look, if you think I want to handle you on my own—"
"He might see them," said Loki. He had to cough out the words.
"Why is this happening?" said Clint. "What about the arc reactor?"
"It only stops Thanos, not put an end to him," said Loki, trying to catch his breath between the bouts of suppressed pain. "A roof may keep the rain from falling on your head, but that does not stop it from falling."
A revelation shocked Loki in the back of his mind and he nearly gave a cry. What had they done last time Thanos possessed him? And where was his own mind?
"Stay back, guys!" Clint said as bounding footsteps neared the bathroom. "Stay back—Loki says it might be dangerous if you come."
"What's going on?" said Bruce's voice. "Clint, tell us what's happening."
"Thanos is trying to probe into Loki," said Clint. He held up his hands as if to calm a wild animal as Loki's body jerked in pain. "I don't know if Thanos has a chance of getting through, but—"
"Barton," Loki said suddenly. Clint jumped, as if not expecting Loki to ever say his name. "Barton, do you trust me?"
"Not if you ask that," said Clint.
"Well, you're going to enjoy this nonetheless," said Loki. He put a free hand on the arc reactor, his fingers digging into the metal. "I need you to strike me."
Clint sputtered. "What?"
"Thanos will not stop until he finds a way through," said Loki. "A stalemate doesn't end until there's a defeat. I will give him false security—and then you have to force him out."
"Hell no," said Clint. "Last time I had to deal with you as Mr. Puppet I nearly got my skull bashed in."
"Well, apologies for being a little selfish," said Loki. "I personally would prefer a quick and good bash on the head than this drawn-out misery."
"Just do it, Clint!" Natasha forced herself into the doorway.
Loki groaned and forced his gaze away, hoping that Thanos did not sense her. Suddenly, the idea of letting Thanos into his body for even a second was more daunting than Loki first realized.
"What if I freaking kill him?" said Clint.
Loki let out a gasp when a surge of pain nearly throttled him. Clint let out a yell of frustration before roughly grabbing the side of Loki's head.
"Just get it over with!" said Clint.
Loki gritted his teeth and wrenched out the arc reactor. Immediately, blackness overtook him—rushing sounds and color in a flash of a millisecond—his being lifted from his body until he was essentially formless—
It suddenly became frigid, as if something was trying to freeze his flesh into ice. It reminded him of Jotunheim, but crueler.
And then—
He saw a dim kingdom, metallic and square like a prison. He heard a roar, a wave of voices like a storming ocean surrounding. He looked—tried to look in that second—a crowd. A crowd of creatures—warriors—an army. With weapons so foreign and deadly and armor so sharp—he didn't know if he recognized them except in stories—in fear—in nightmares—
And then, blackness. Excruciating pain on the side of his head that made it hard to breathe. The roaring muddled into thin voices, cloudy from the dizzying pain. He felt something touch his forehead and he groaned when it triggered sharp pain in his skull.
Someone was shaking him and he wished they could just stop because didn't anyone know it was improper etiquette to shake a body with a splitting headache?
He forced his eyes open and realized with surprise that he was lying on his back. Natasha, Clint, and Bruce were standing over him and he wondered just how much time passed between him tearing out the arc reactor and now. Clint, he noted, was sporting a bloody nose.
"Congratulations, Clint," said Bruce. "I think you gave him a concussion."
"He literally asked for it," Clint said, stemming his bloody nose with a wad of toilet paper.
"Thor," Loki choked out. "Where is Thor?"
"Keep your eyes on Bruce, Loki," said Natasha, putting her hands on his shoulders. Loki's gaze darted to Bruce just before Bruce shined a light into his eyes. Loki groaned at the stinging brightness before Bruce tucked the light away.
"Yep, definitely concussed," said Bruce. "Nice swing you got there, Clint."
"I wasn't fast enough," said Clint, throwing away reddened tissues. "Thanos gave me a right hook first thing before I hit him."
"My condolences," said Loki, closing his eyes to will the pain away.
"Keep your eyes open," said Bruce. Loki groaned and opened one eye reluctantly. "Don't be like that. Here—keep your eyes on Natasha. Just make it your day's goal to keep awake."
Loki lifted his eyes to Natasha. She nodded encouragingly, sliding her hands underneath his aching head to cushion them from the cold bathroom floor.
"I need to speak with Thor," said Loki. "It was like before—I caught a glimpse of what Thanos saw as he caught sight of what I saw. I must—it is urgent."
"He's straight out of a Harry Potter book," said Clint in awe.
"JARVIS, can you call down Thor here, please?" said Bruce. "And Loki, do you want some ice for your head, or do you want to heal it yourself?"
"I'll heal it myself," said Loki, reaching out to fix the arc reactor back on his chest.
"Are you sure?" said Bruce.
Loki scowled at the doctor. "I'm perfectly capable."
He wondered if Bruce somehow was able to see past the glamour. He placed a hand on his head and let his power flow into his skull, soothing the battered head until the pain ceased. He propped himself up on his elbows, his head still spinning from the impact, as Natasha helped him into a sitting position.
"What is going on?" Thor rushed into the bathroom, confused and disheveled. "JARVIS informed me that—Barton, what happened to your nose?"
"Don't worry about it," Clint said. "No, I said don't worry about it," he said as Loki reached out to heal his nose.
"Thanos tried to probe into Loki through the Mind Gem again," said Bruce. "The arc reactor managed to keep him from doing so, but couldn't kick him out for good, so we—"
"Thor," said Loki. "The Kree. Thanos has allied with them. And they are marching to Jotunheim right now."
The blood drained from Thor's face. Natasha, Bruce, and Clint exchanged uncertain glances.
"What are the Kree?" said Natasha. "What does that mean?"
"That means," Thor said, "the war is already beginning."
"Well," said Tony. "That escalated quickly."
The Avengers and Loki sat pow-wow style on the bathroom floor, despite the drops of blood on the tiles from Clint's bloody nose and the bits of broken mirror still clogging the sink. Tony had sworn that he was going to give every member a bill for all the damage that they inflicted on the tower, but his threats subsided when he realized what had transpired. Clint was dabbing a wet cloth on the back of his neck, still refusing any extraterrestrial help for his nosebleed.
"Does that mean that Thanos changed his plans?" said Steve. "He's not attacking two months from now but…sometime as soon as in the next two weeks?"
"He is very close to Jotunheim by now," said Loki. "Unless he plans on scouting the area for so long and with the risk of being caught, he probably intends to move soon."
"And Jotunheim is…?" said Bruce.
"Home of the Frost Giants," said Thor. "One of the Nine Realms of Yggdrasil."
Loki pretended to be very interested in his fingernails. Thor cast a sidelong glance at him and bit his lip.
"What's so special about the Kree?" said Tony.
"They are another interplanetary race," said Thor. "They are humanoid in form, but highly advanced in their technology and military. They adapt accurately to any given environment and are a formidable force."
"Why would they join ranks with Thanos?" said Clint. "All he wants is to destroy everything. Gath—I mean, the Chitauri seemed to think that they would reign over everything alongside Thanos, and pledged their allegiance to him. Why would the Kree want anything to do with him?"
"Not so long ago, nearly all of the Kree had been annihilated by an outside force," said Thor. "Only a handful of them remain now. Surely Thanos promised them some sort of redemption or kingdom to rebuild in exchange for their loyalty. No doubt they will only receive death."
"How dangerous are they?" said Steve.
"Dangerous enough for us to be concerned," said Loki. He drew his knees to his chest. "Truthfully, any force under Thanos' command is formidable."
"How many are there?" said Clint. "About a hundred?"
"Less. There were less," said Loki. "But one Kree can have the power influence men to their bidding… even drain the life force out of them. The female Kree, anyway."
Natasha let out a low whistle. "Talk about femme fatale."
"What pisses me off is that the arc reactor stopped Thanos from coming in, but at the same time it didn't," said Tony, flicking a piece of broken mirror against the bathroom wall. "The moment I thought I finally one-upped the son of a bitch…"
"What if Thanos keeps trying to force his way into you?" said Clint. "You're going to lose half your brain cells at this rate."
Loki gritted his teeth. "Yes. Thank you for saying it like that, Barton."
"But Jotunheim," said Steve. "If they're attacking Jotunheim soon…they'll be nowhere near ready. With a week or so worth of notice? Would they have the ability to fight Thanos off?"
"They'll be fine," Loki said.
"No, they will not," Thor said, his voice stiff. Loki looked away. "They are without a standard army or their powers. They will fall if Thanos comes to them."
"Then they fall," Loki said. "There is little we could do for them."
"Is that the truth, Loki?" said Thor.
"They have nothing to do with me," Loki said. "And I have nothing to do with them. We never did, never have, and never will."
"Loki, listen to yourself," said Thor. Loki gripped his knees. "Listen to you speak this cruelty. You claim to hate the Frost Giants, even after all this time, but it truly is Laufey that holds your anger. Don't deny it," he added when Loki turned sharply to Thor. "Frost Giants have offended us just as much as they had to defend themselves from us, and we no different. But your heart is bitter towards Laufey and what he has done to Asgard…and to you."
"This has nothing to do with me," said Loki. "What will be done will be done, whether I care for them or not. Either anything or nothing can prepare them for Thanos, so what more can we do for them?"
"I know you have the Casket," Thor said.
Loki 's eyes flashed dangerously.
"It's mine," said Loki. "It's more of my birthright than anything else."
"I never accused you of stealing," said Thor, furrowing his eyebrows. "Only that you possess great power…power that does not have to only destroy."
"It may if it is in the wrong hands," said Loki.
"You cannot say that about every Frost Giant—"
"They left me," said Loki, his voice sharpening. "They left me to die, they abandoned me. Forgive me if I am tempted to return the favor."
Thor quieted, his face drawn with inexplicable sadness. Loki leaned back against the tub, fists gripped protectively. He felt the perplexed gazes of all the others in the room fixed upon him and he forced himself to only look upon Thor, daring him to argue.
"You've banished Laufey," Thor said. "But you have yet to banish your ghosts."
"I don't see how you are one to talk, Golden Prince," said Loki.
"Do not direct your anger of Jotunheim to me, Loki," Thor said, his voice stern. "It will ease nothing."
Loki clenched his teeth but swallowed his verbal spitfire. Steve shifted awkwardly beside him, the tense atmosphere becoming stifling. Even Bruce looked fully aware how out of place they were in between the brothers.
"You should see Jotunheim now, brother," Thor said quietly. "Did you know, that when I visited the queen during one of the truce meetings, I saw her children? Two boys, only a handful of winters old, and they reminded me of us. Playing together, watching the foreign kingdom with wide-eyed curiosity…one of them was very small, Loki. So, so small...and loved."
"Be quiet," said Loki.
"Jotunheim did not ask for warriors of size and strength for a prince, they asked for a child," said Thor. "Laufey was one king, and no father. But that was all he was. He was—and is—no kingdom."
Loki bit down on the tip of his tongue, trying to understand how exactly it was that Thor—Thor, who boasted of slaughtering all the Frost Giants, who pummeled one in the chest just for an insult, who scorned them with his tongue—had grown to care for them more than all the wisdom and years of Asgard combined.
"…So," said Tony, ever the one to break the silence. "We've got a bunch of aliens trying to destroy the entire universe."
"The Nine Realms," said Thor.
"Isn't that pretty much the entire universe?" said Clint.
"Well, the Kree and the Chitauri don't live in a vacuum, do they?" said Loki.
"Okay, if we have to be all technical," Tony said. "Destroy the parts of the universe that we remotely care about. I don't know if it's one by one or if he's planning some Armageddon at once—"
"Most likely all at once. At least, the outer realms will be attacked first," said Thor. "Thanos would want the job done quickly."
"What about Earth?" said Clint.
"Knowing Thanos," said Loki, "he would save Midgard for later. To taunt the Realms with hopelessness when the most powerful realms are taken first." He caught the reproachful stares of the mortals and shrugged. "That is the general opinion of mortals in the Nine Realms. Do not blame me for a common stereotype."
"That makes things easier," said Steve. "So at least we'll have time to come back to Earth after helping you guys out and—"
"I'm sorry—I beg your pardon?" said Thor.
"What?" said Loki.
Steve blinked perplexedly at Loki and Thor, both who stared at him as if he spoke in tongues without warning. None of the other Avengers seemed the least bit perturbed—at least, they did not seem bothered by what Steve said, but instead by the brothers' reactions.
"What do you mean by 'come back to Earth?'" said Thor.
"After we help you guys in—Yodel-heil and Ass-Guards or whatever they're called," said Clint. "What else?"
"Absolutely not," said Loki.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold up here," said Tony. "Are you telling me that you didn't expect us to help out when an intergalactic war breaks loose?"
"We expected you to stay on Earth where you belong," said Loki, "helping to defend your own home and your own people while the rest do the same."
Natasha's eyebrow twitched. "Looks like we just had a really long bout of miscommunication."
"Now wait just a moment," said Thor, holding up a hand. "You all are mortals. How do you expect to survive on a realm outside of your own?"
"You seem to forget the fact that the Chitauri weren't able to take over the planet three years ago for a reason," Bruce said, raising his eyebrows.
"That was not how I wanted that to sound like," said Thor. "But the other realms are drastically different from Midgard. You have no advantage of knowing your own realm. You do not even have transportation."
"That's where we sort of hitchhike on whatever ride you're taking, Point Break," said Tony.
"This is ridiculous," said Loki. "You will not leave this realm."
"I'm sorry, but are you giving us orders?" Natasha said.
"Midgard needs you all," said Thor.
"Don't you need us too?" said Steve.
"Midgard needs you more," said Loki. "Do not leave your home defenseless."
"It won't be defenseless because we're going to kick Thanos' ass before he reaches it," said Tony. "Don't you see? If we want to stop Thanos, we want to stop him early in the game, not wait around on the chance that he already offed all of you aliens and is heading straight to us."
"And if our predictions are wrong?" said Loki. "If Thanos strikes Midgard first and 'Earth's mightiest heroes' are conveniently absent?"
"Then we go back," said Steve. "And you two will probably come with us. Why? Because for some odd reason you two always help a realm that in all honesty doesn't affect you in the slightest way, and you don't expect us to want to do the same."
"That is different," Thor said. "It is Asgard's duty to protect Midgard."
"I'm pretty sure we could fend for ourselves, considering past events," said Clint.
"What, then?" said Loki. "You will throw yourselves into a war you've never seen—war against not only the Chitauri, who are stronger and fiercer than they were years ago, but also the Kree, Thanos, whoever else he picks up—and expect to come out unscathed?"
"Do you really think that we'll sit around doing nothing while you and Thor and the rest of the universe goes into battle?" said Natasha. "You expect us to be perfectly content where we are when you all could be dying somewhere?"
"I see how much confidence you have in our success," said Loki.
"I see how much confidence you have in ours," Natasha said.
Loki clenched his teeth as Natasha glared at him with daggers for eyes. She was radiant in her anger, like a supernova, which was more terrifying than it was appealing. But couldn't she understand? Couldn't any one of them understand the gravity of the situation? They were signing themselves for absolute warfare, for pain and torture—for death.
And like hell he would just stand aside and let them.
"This conversation is finished," said Loki, standing up from the floor.
"Oh, hell no," said Natasha, jumping to her feet. Everyone below them bristled uncomfortably at the growing tension between the two of them. "Don't walk away from this and expect that it settles the matter in your favor."
"Your persistence is admirable," said Loki. "But very little can change my mind."
"What can, then?" said Natasha. "What will finally make you see that we want to help and we can help? What can change your opinion on anything?"
"The Void," Loki said. His voice was cold. "A hundred and more years of uncertainty and oblivion. Experiencing Thanos' wrath firsthand and understanding that he will not—and he shall not—hesitate in inflicting the same horrors and death on any of you. That is enough to make my mind."
The silence stilled in between them—stunned speechlessness. Natasha's fists and jaw were clenched, but Loki could see the raging thoughts and emotion in her eyes and suddenly he felt too closed in, too cramped in this bathroom of people after he let his thoughts balloon and take up too much space. Without another word, he pushed his way out of the bathroom—running away.
That was his answer for everything, wasn't it? Running away? Trying to avoid the truth by pushing himself as far away as possible?
This is settled. This must be settled. They cannot fight for us.
Loki ducked into his bedroom, fully aware that he was acting like a cantankerous child. Why did they so insist on coming? Did they fancy themselves as heroes of all Nine Realms, with one Pyrrhic victory against the Chitauri as proof of their invulnerability? Loki wished he could laugh at the foolishness, if it wasn't so dire that they truly thought they stood a chance against Thanos and his army.
That anyone stood a chance against Thanos and his army, really.
Loki closed his eyes, trying to force away a grimace. Thanos was no Other, no Destroyer, and certainly no him. He admitted his planning of the battle in New York City was a shoddy one at most, but Thanos was no fool. If battle and slaughter meant Death's favor, Thanos would not fail.
Loki could feel Thanos' hands on him right now and he tried not to hurl.
He ran both hands through his hair, trying to regain his countenance. This was not a battle for mortals. This was not a battle for anyone, but someone had to fight it if they wanted to just stand a chance. That was all they had—they had no powers that Thanos could not counteract, no strength that Thanos could not overpower, no allies that Thanos could not easily vanquish. All they had was an offhand chance that the Norns would be merciful, and nothing more.
And if all Nine Realms fell, he would rather that the Avengers—the ones that protected him, that cared for him for all this time when he had done nothing, absolutely nothing to deserve it—live blissfully the rest of what little time was left in oblivion and at home, with the ones they loved. Let the heavens crash upon Midgard when Asgard fell and Thanos conquered them, but let Midgard live in naïve peace for just a little longer.
Just a little longer.
(What happened to you on Earth that turned you so soft?)
Loki opened his eyes, staring at the bedroom window that overlooked the city. Suddenly his heart panged at the realization—he did not think that they would win. It was hard to picture victory against Thanos when Loki had lost time and time again underneath him for so long. And now the Realms that he loved—had grown to care for—will die.
That was when he caught Natasha's reflection in the glass and his heart jumped to his throat.
Giving a sigh, he turned around. She was at the doorway—not angry, not yelling, but he couldn't read her. And that distressed him more than any vicious word.
At first they said nothing, only watching each other cautiously, before Loki finally gestured for her to come in. She closed the door behind him silently and he only then understood how gruffly he had spoken to her—and to everyone, for that matter.
"I shouldn't have been so rude," said Loki.
Natasha gave him a half smile. He looked away, pretending that there was nothing else left in his mind.
"Neither should I," she said.
"But that doesn't mean I change my mind," said Loki.
"I know that," said Natasha. "But you should also realize that just because you don't agree with something, doesn't mean any of us are going to comply."
"The hearts of mortals are always so stubborn," said Loki.
"As if you immortals are any different," said Natasha.
Loki gave a small chuckle, crossing his arms as if cold. His laugh subsided quickly when he sensed the immovable seriousness in her.
"Why?" he said. "Why do you insist on coming?"
"Because we want to help you," said Natasha.
"What for?" said Loki. "You owe us no debt. We owe you one, if anything. You have no obligation."
"Is everything rules and regulations in Asgard?" said Natasha. "We want to help you because we care about you. We care about your home, we care if it's your people that have to lay their lives down to protect the rest of us. If it's you that have to lay your life down for us."
"Well, I know Thor and I aren't exactly apathetic to you and the others," Loki said, "so why do you think we do not want you in harm's way?"
"I'm not saying what you feel about it is irrational," said Natasha. "But we've been fighting together—all of us together—for all this time. We've helped each other out all this time. Are we going to give it all up now?"
"You seem to think that this will be a goodbye," Loki said, his voice hollow.
"No," said Natasha. "I don't want it to be. But this is Thanos we're talking about. This is—this really is a war of the worlds. And if you're going to be worlds away, what certainty do I have that you'll be okay? That you'll—maybe you will come back?"
She wanted him to come back. The thought made Loki hurt inside.
"It seems that my many months of playing the role as a docile kitten have made you underestimate me," he said.
"Loki," said Natasha.
"I have my strength and power. I can withstand battle. I've done so for a millennium or two," said Loki. He knew he was playing devil's advocate, but he had to push her away. Just a little farther. "I've faced Thanos before. I know how to endure him. But you and the rest of the Avengers—you've never seen his wrath. And if you can go through your whole life without having to, I will keep it that way."
"What we see and don't see in this life is up to us, not you," said Natasha. "And if seeing Thanos also means seeing you fighting, and alive and safe, then I'll take the package deal."
"You don't understand," Loki said, and how it hurt to speak. "You don't understand—this will not be an epic battle where you can watch in the sidelines and expect a clean victory—"
"One, I don't expect to be anywhere near the sidelines," Natasha said. "And two, don't you think I know a thing or two about a war? Sure, you may say that the Chitauri battle in New York City is nothing, but we beat it."
"Out of sheer luck that you had a weapon of fire flying toward the city in that very instant," said Loki, "with the off chance that you had an opening and the ability to close the portal to the Chitauri headquarters light years away from Midgard according to your timing. If you did not have Lady Luck on your side, you would have failed."
"You underestimate us," said Natasha. "If that is how you think we are—if you think we're that incompetent—"
"I never said that," said Loki.
"—then why would you leave us on Earth to fend the planet from Thanos' army? Is it because you expect Asgard's forces and your own to finish off Thanos before Earth is even under a threat? Do you think Asgard will be able to fly to our rescue like we're just helpless ants who can't do anything to protect ourselves?"
"Natasha," Loki said.
"Or is this some crazy self-sacrificial ritual that you Asgardians like to do?" said Natasha. "You are going to put yourselves on the line—to kill yourselves—for the sake of all the realms?"
Loki knew that she was speaking out of anger, out of sarcasm, but he also knew that she strayed too close to the truth than he wanted. When he said nothing, her face paled and her sharp words shuddered.
"Loki," she said. "Don't tell me—you don't actually think that—"
"It doesn't matter what I think," said Loki.
"All this time," she said. Her voice was dangerously quiet. "All this time, you expected the battle to lose. That you would leave us and—that would be it."
"That doesn't mean that will be the truth," Loki said. He was saying anything now, anything that would come to mind—because he didn't want it to be true, even if his mind would not let him convince himself of anything else. He didn't want the worlds to fall, he didn't want to leave everything behind—he didn't want to die. He didn't want anyone to die.
"And you," Natasha said, "expected the rest of us to sit quietly and wonder where the hell you and Thor went?"
"I will not watch you burn for the sake of a world that isn't yours," said Loki.
"Oh, and yet you don't mind if I do the same?" said Natasha. "Loki, I watched you get attacked by Chitauri. I watched you when you were unconscious for five days, wondering if one day we would realize you would never wake up. I watched you take blow after blow for me, even though you and I both know I can take a bad hit on any day. Loki, look at me."
Loki raised his eyes to Natasha. She came to him and put her hands on his arms. He wished she wouldn't, else he felt compromised—that he would make any decision just so she would not let him go.
"If we fight together and we win," she said, "then we win, and the rest is history. But if we lose—we lose together. And we won't be alone. We won't be afraid. Because we'll all be together, and I won't have it any other way. We're a team, Loki. A family. We're more than a family. We're—"
Loki gripped Natasha by the shoulders, pulled her close and—all of a sudden—he was seized by the desire to kiss her. She was so close, mere inches away to the point where he was certain he could hear her heartbeat, and he wished to melt into her, be with her—but he couldn't.
His heart shattered and he couldn't because he knew that nothing could ever be. There was no living together, no dying together—for as long as he was who he was, as long as the Mind Gem and its poison could never leave him, and she was who she was, there was nothing for them. She was a sun, waiting to burn out bright, and he had long diminished, faded from existence, waiting for his lights in their place in the sky to die.
Gently, he backed away. Natasha stood trembling in the spot, her eyes searching desperately for an answer—an explanation—on his face. He closed his eyes, as if to imagine the darkness when he would finally fall from life. Because even if Thanos was beat—even if they won—Loki would not. Natasha would return to Midgard and he—in a month's time, a year, perhaps no more than ten, he would be gone and forgotten. She would have to move on, no doubt, and one day he would cease to exist in her memory. In death, he would neither be truth nor fact—a mere story or fantasy that may as well be a lie, as he has always been his entire life. If he was a lie, then love made him real, because this pain it gave him was enough to convince him he was alive—that he had a heart at all.
She slowly raised her hand, and for a moment Loki thought that she might strike him. Instead, she held it up, fingers outstretched, the thinnest tremor running through her bones. His heart leapt and he held out his own—long, white fingers and thin veins along the back. He brushed his fingertips against hers before letting his fingers slip in between. She closed the space between them, wrapping her fingers around his and holding him tightly. She was so warm in his hand, and now his fingers no longer felt so alone.
I will follow you, said the lines in her palm against his. To victory, to death, into the dark. I'll follow you.
He clasped her hand so tight. He knew not what death was—whether it was Valhalla or Helheim, or nothing at all, but he cared not. If they would just grant him the warmth in his hand, such as now, he will come.
"Loki," said Natasha.
Loki lightly touched her knuckles. They were rough and perpetually scabbed.
Do I know you?
"Tell me," she said.
"Of what?" Loki said.
"Everything," said Natasha. "Everything you kept in all this time, that you wanted to say but couldn't let out. I'll listen."
Trust me.
"I don't know how," said Loki. He laughed shakily. "I never did before."
Even with all the power in its bones Natasha's hand felt so delicate in Loki's. He could shatter it if he wasn't careful, and he almost let go.
"You're safe here," said Natasha. "You're safe with me."
He gave her a crooked smile.
"Do you mean to save me, Natasha?" he said. For a moment, he wished she said yes.
She said nothing, but she held on tighter to him, fingers enclosed in his, and that was enough.
What if she was disgusted?
What if she was afraid of him?
What if he made her cry?
What if…
But she looked at him so full of want and trust—and thought him whole after all this time, always.
He spoke.