Stupid Norse gods and their feels
Title: Childhood Memories And Grown-up Dreams
Authors:
sphinxofthenile and
ice_lady
Fandom: The Avengers, Thor
Pairing: Loki/Thor
Rating: PG13
Disclaimer: Do not own. Make no money. Mean no harm.
Summary: Even evil geniuses with world domination tendencies, an IQ far too high for this realm and too much free time on their hands have to find something to do on a Friday night.
Warning: Mpreg, incest, just another making-it-better fic.
A/N: I would love to blame
amcw177 for this in some shape or form, but I'm afraid this time it was my fault. I regret nothing.
Word count: 12860
---
Thor is an idiot. One doesn't have to be a genius to figure that out. One just needs a pair of eyes. Maybe not even that. Thor is... stupid, gullible, simple, laughable, half-witted, thickheaded... Stupid.
And Loki is obviously all that squared for indulging the idiot.
But even evil geniuses with world domination tendencies, an IQ far too high for this realm and too much free time on their hands have to find something to do on a Friday night. Besides, Thor said he was paying. Though the way this is going, Loki knows all too well he's never going to reach the level where his own consumption, and by that the expense, could possibly surpass his brother's.
Oh right. Thor isn't his brother anymore. He never was Loki's brother.
"My glass seems to be empty," Loki observes. Quite intelligently, even if he says so himself, regardless of the drunken slur that's rather audible in his voice at this point. And the sheer amount of alcohol required to make Loki drunk is indeed to be blamed for him thinking it's rather adorable seeing Thor's hand instantly shoot up as the man beckons the bartender.
He still hates Thor, though. If nothing, for the mere fact that the moron had about twice as many glasses and yet he seems to be holding up rather well. Stupid Asgardians and their love for all things crude and festive, and... booze.
No wonder Loki never fit in, in retrospect.
Why in the name of the gods is he even here? Oh, yes. Because Thor asked him to. Because for some weird, stupid reason Thor still has this solid conviction that he can talk Loki out of his villainy and then everybody would live happily ever after. And Loki was bored enough with the silence of his lodgings to put up with the cheap entertainment of making fun of his oaf of an... adoptive brother. Wasn't that the term these pathetic mortals would use? Even Loki has to hand it to them, they have a talent for prettifying their ugly realities.
"Your mood seems clouded, brother," Thor remarks, and Loki produces what he hopes is enough of a glare.
"I wasn't aware there was reason not to," he shoots back dryly, wishing his glass weren't as hopelessly empty as it is. These Midgardian folks, no good at even such simple tasks. Sometimes, Loki seriously has to wonder if they're even worth all that trouble. Too late to ponder that now. "And don't call me that. Or has this horrendous liquid already ruined your memory enough to forget?" he adds with a sneer.
Instead of insulted though, Thor just looks hurt. Suddenly Loki finds the very purpose of his visit being defeated as a cold sort of feeling settles in his stomach. Stupid boar, taking the fun out of everything. Or maybe that's the booze. Either way, Loki is rather happy to receive his refill. Easier to focus on that than the look in Thor's eyes.
Maybe he really shouldn't have come.
"You shall always remain a brother to me Loki, no matter what," Thor says, and the warmth in his voice is grating on Loki's nerves like sandpaper on an open wound. Then again, he probably should have expected it. Thor, always the trusting, naive fool, with his noble honor and stupid heart of gold and...
"Well, things have changed!" Loki blurts out a little too loudly, his glass cracking as it hits the counter. A glance around and he adjusts his volume because people are staring and it's making him uncomfortable enough. They really shouldn't be having this conversation in public.
They should not be having this conversation.
"Lies, all lies," he hisses in a low tone, avoiding to look at Thor because he knows what he would see there and it's stirring things inside him he thought long dead.
"Is that really what you think?" That tone is still so warm, just the slightest bit amused, as though it is Loki who is the simpleton here and not the other way round.
He wants to laugh at the sheer ridiculousness of such a notion, but somehow he cannot. So he just snorts instead. "Nostalgia will indeed be your downfall, Thor. Downfall of you all."
"Even so, I'd rather keep my fond memories. What would this life be worth without them?" Thor asks with a smile, and it's doing things to Loki's throat that no smile or words should do. Ever.
"Odin's beard, brother," Loki mocks, raising an eyebrow. "Big words for such a small mind you've got there."
Thor laughs, in that drunken, boisterous way of his that is thunderous enough to make glass shake and infectious enough to pull Loki along, even though he hates Thor for it and definitely himself. "Just like good ole times, eh?" Thor pats him on the shoulder and Loki has to fight hard to prevent a rather indignant sound slipping past his lips.
Overgrown idiot never quite fully aware of his own strength, and especially not when drunk. Just like old times indeed, and it makes Loki grit his teeth because it's all so damn unfair.
All the things he's been robbed of. They have been stripped of like it had never been. Oh, Loki remembers them, he remembers them quite well. He sometimes wishes he didn't, because maybe then he wouldn't feel so much burning contempt, so much hate.
To think he came here just to have some fun. He's tempted to leave now, oh is he ever, but--
It really isn't like old times. There's no scent of hay and mead and open fires here, no roars of laughter at crude jokes and cruel teasing. Unlike the great halls of their home, there are no boasting warriors here, or smiling handmaids with knowing eyes. It occurs to him with the jarring clarity of too much drink how alone they really are in this strange land. "Not really, no," he murmurs under his breath, and once he looks at Thor he sees so much understanding there.
It's all so unfair.
---
He's the God of Mischief, not Evil. That's the only reason why Loki doesn't leave Thor to tend to himself, of course. Even though dragging his brother's-- Thor's massive body (massive drunken body) around is anything but a fun way to end this evening.
Loki has to wonder, though. At which point did the roles reverse exactly? Sure, Loki's drunk, but when did Thor catch up with him? Most of the evening was the other way around, but not anymore it seems.
And Loki knows he should have left while he still had the chance. Like this, happy or not, Thor is his responsibility and Loki can't just leave him at the mercy of these... puny Midgardians. Even though at this point he can practically hear the creaks in his own knees as he tries to offer some sort of a balance to the drunken god leaning onto his shoulders.
His legs have obviously been failing him for the last half an hour, and yet Thor still has enough mental capacity to be chuckling and snorting at every stupid little thing. Like the fact that someone drew a smiley face onto the concrete under their feet.
While Loki sometimes regrets certain things, at times like these he's more than happy with the knowledge that he shares no blood relation with that oaf.
Even though said oaf's chuckles seem so disgustingly... infectious.
Gods, it has been a while, hasn't it? No that Loki actually misses those times. Of course.
"For the love of Freyja, what do they feed you down here?" he complains in an exasperated whisper, but Thor obviously hears him regardless. Note to self, making Thor laugh in their current condition is strongly counterproductive.
"Pancakes is the name, I believe. Granted, nowhere close to mother's pies..."
Mother's.
Loki lets go.
Thor lands on his ass and laughs again.
"Why am I even bothering," Loki mutters and rolls his eyes but it just causes the world to make weird flips around him, so he gives up on that for the time being.
"Alcohol used to relax you, brother," Thor says from down below, and Loki sighs as he decides his legs are in too much pain for him to care about his dignity. There's no one here to see his graceless slump. "What do I do now to stop you from being so... uptight?"
At this point, Loki is happy that he's sitting, regardless of the fact that the concrete is dirty, and he knows Thor's dwellings are nearby. If a small box these Midgardians manage to fill up so effectively could be called thus.
"This place has been good for you," he observes and Thor just grins, his cheeks flushed and eyes unfocused and Loki remembers that one drunken fight where Sif kicked their respective behinds for trashing the kitchen. And Thor laughing so hard in spite the confession that he felt like every bone in his body had been broken.
Why is Loki even thinking about those things? Long past. Unimportant. Forgotten.
"Why?" Thor asks.
"Teaching you big words," Loki says and Thor's laughter is so loud Loki swears he can hear it shake the windows on these big buildings that surround them.
"Seems like strength isn't the be all and end all around here," the man adds and Loki bites the inside of his cheeks not to snort.
Thor's eyes are so ridiculously soft, regardless of their lack of focus, and Loki looks down to the dirty concrete before he decides to pull himself up clumsily, drunkenly, help Thor as well. If he managed to drag this bear sized man all the way to his building, Loki will sure as hell drag him to his flat. Even if it's the last thing he does.
Even if he needs to avoid eye contact all the while trying to help Thor to his feet, because those eyes are killing him. Stirring things up inside that Loki thought long gone. He thought he killed them a lifetime ago. Well obviously not.
The walk up a flight of stairs is torrid at best. Dragging Thor around ground level is one thing, but this feels like breaking the laws of physics. Not that Loki isn't good in that department, but he has a distinct feeling Thor's neighbours wouldn't appreciate his tricks. Nor would Thor, come morning.
It's like a mountain falling off his shoulders (quite literally at that) once Thor lets go and flunks onto the mattress of his far too small bed in this far too small cage of plastic and concrete. And Loki is far too drained and tired himself not to do the same, his ego be damned.
They're both drunk, Thor hopefully won't remember this in the morning, and Loki just needs a moment of staring at that ugly ceiling that is not white enough nor polished enough for his bro-- Thor. Not that Thor ever had any taste whatsoever.
"What is this?" he hears Thor ask, and Loki cranes his head to the left, curious. "No nasty comments about my lack of style or decorum?"
Loki chuckles despite himself as he does his best to shake his head. Not while lying on his back, obviously. Not while Thor is looking at him like that.
"I'm shocked, brother." It stings, the word. Loki wants to say it and smack Thor over the head, keep on pounding until something breaks, though he has no idea whether he's thinking of Thor or himself.
So unfair.
"You are a lousy host," Loki has to say. Just to keep his dignity. Or keep himself from really reacting.
It's pointless, of course, because Thor rolls onto his side, smiles, and then extends one arm. Loki freezes, because villains and deities that are up to no good in general are supposed to be wary of everything and everyone.
He's also too drunk to bolt out through the front door once he feels Thor's fingers on his temple, gentle, sliding down to his ear and tucking a strand of Loki's hair behind it. And then there are feelings that he knows he shouldn't have, far too many years which he spent berating himself and his ridiculous ideas.
None of this should matter now. Thor and he aren't brothers anymore. And maybe, just maybe, Loki should just close his eyes instead of trying to come up with ways to harm Thor.
He's far too drunk for all of this. So is Thor. And the implications of these last few seconds seem far too grand for this planet and definitely beyond the scope of Loki's alcohol drowned mind. Regardless of how well adapted it is to deal with mayhem and bloodshed in general.
Loki sighs and closes his eyes, smiling a little when he feels Thor's lips on his own.
---
Loki snaps out of his sleep, eyes unfocused and burning. It was no nightmare that caused this, Loki knows. He rarely dreams, anyway. His body never betrays him, and waking up so suddenly is more of a survival instinct than a deficiency.
It's early, he knows as much. Definitely too early considering the time he went to bed last night. Not like going to bed is the operative word in this case. But as the image of that ugly ceiling in all its bright morning glory starts to slowly draw out in his line of sight, the ache at the back of his head and neck appears with a vengeance.
He's naked, he realises, and besides his head, other parts of his body hurt as well. He smiles.
Then he bites his tongue, because his mind is more than happy to provide explanations that are as horrifying as they are logical. Logical but senseless. Pointless. Ridiculous.
He smiles again.
And then he cranes his head.
Thor is still sleeping. Like a baby, Loki would like to think, because he spent a lifetime berating his brother, as berating was easier than dealing with all that baggage. Well, no more baggage to deal with, obviously. All out in the open. Loki has had hots (or isn't that how they call it here? Hots. Considering Loki's true origin, the irony isn't lost on him) for the person he considered his brother for a good chunk of his life. There's surely someone out there who will one day find humour in it all. Not Thor, he hopes.
Loki also hopes Thor won't remember a thing once he wakes up. Would make things easier, surely. On both ends.
He slips out of the bed stealthily. Sure, he could will himself out of it, to the other side of the world if he so desires, but no reason for magic. It would alarm Thor, because dumb as Thor is, he's grown much better at sensing magic in this world of black and gray, and the last thing Loki needs now is to see those eyes again. Even for a split second.
He's too sober for it. Definitely too sober. And filled with too many regrets that better dissipate in the next few hours. Or else.
Standing up, he regrets drinking. Ever. Promises himself he won't do such a thing again, but knows damned well it's futile.
He's certainly not drinking with Thor anymore. Loki may be the type to live for solving riddles (and causing chaos), but he's not complicating his life to this point. World domination, yes. All that and his brother. No.
He should also stop thinking of Thor as his brother while he's at it. Making all these new promises and all. Accompanied by all these revelations he should have kept buried.
Good god, what has he done? Besides gotten drunk to the point of finally ignoring that voice inside his head constantly telling him just how wrong this is. Just how futile it is. Just how... inadequate he'd always felt. Hard to say no to the puppy eyes, because Thor has always been so full of joy, so over-excited, so happy. So pompous and boisterous and annoying.
And fucking everybody always wanted Thor. So Loki did not.
Because Thor was his brother...
But Loki had always been... curious. And it's just not a sin anymore.
So why not. No shame, no regret. Ever. Of course.
With Thor ever too happy to please and forget everything Loki has ever done him wrong. Over and over again. If Loki were a little more evil he'd be using up that fact this very moment. He'd be using that fact from day one. The humans would stand no chance. Which makes him wonder just how stupid he actually is.
Splitting headache or not, he grabs all his belongings stealthily, and slips out. Thor doesn't flinch. Poor idiot probably won't even remember. Well, at least one of them is blessed with that ability. At times like these Loki wishes he'd have half his brain. Half Thor's brain.
Thor was wrong, though. Not like that's any news. Nostalgia is quite pointless. For a split second Loki wishes to go back and rub this into Thor's face. The irony of it all is that it would make Loki so damned happy. That he'd be able to.
He doesn't, of course. Last night never happened.
---
Loki is dying.
There's no other possible explanation. He's been poisoned and he's dying. He's been perfectly fine the day before, a little brawl with Coulson's agents and a case of messed up telecommunications. A good dinner afterwards at a nice restaurant. Nothing out of the ordinary.
Just to wake up to feeling more sick than he ever remembers being, body wrecked with shivers despite the heating being on and the contents of his stomach coming back to say hello to daylight with a bloody vengeance. And this is just not normal.
Thanks to Thor and his utter dumbness, Loki has been through far less cases of poisoning during their childhood than he actually should have. Still, he's had his fair share of trying whatever interesting looking substance came his way. He has to come to the conclusion that this is something far more vicious after a couple of hours spent leaning over the sink and praying to all the known and unknown gods that he survives this. Whatever this might be.
Sadly, once the nausea retreats to more tolerable levels Loki has to make peace with the fact that this is merely a sort of respite because he is still feeling weak as a newborn kitten and merely thinking of any sort of food makes him want to actually die just to end this misery once and for all.
He tries everything in the book as well as out of it, water and herbal teas and even a bit of alcohol, despite the fact that he promised himself not to drink ever again. But these things available to him are just mere replacements for real and proper medicine he would have no problems finding in Asgard. If only.
A few hours and a handful of destroyed buildings later, the God of Mischief simply breaks down crying with the frightening realisation that he has no particular reason to do so aside from the fact that he could kill for a good serving of Frigga's berry cake with some pickled mushroom on the side.
He is obviously losing his mind too.
And then the same thing happens the next day. And the third day seems even worse. By fourth, he's contemplating suicide, or at least calling someone, but somehow he manages without either. It seems to be getting better after that and, while Loki would love to find out what on earth happened, at this point he's smart enough just to be grateful for the ability to eat returning to him.
Not for long though, and he hides. The imminent world domination will just have to wait, because Loki is happier hugging a pillow, or a blanket, or well anything that's soft and warm and not stinking to the point of making his stomach twist. He never knew one could be so sensitive to smells.
He's not sure how many days pass, but one morning he catches a glance of himself in the mirror, and he looks awful. Sunken cheeks and dark, baggy eyes. His fingers feel so bony and he can't stop the shivers. Makes him think that this is a slow acting poison, which means he has time, but that's not exactly a comforting thought. Not when he feels like someone injected acid into his digestive system.
That's when he finally breaks and calls Thor.
Sure, he can appear right in the middle of the man's flat, but there are quite sensible reasons as to why he's not doing exactly that. Besides, one never knows what kind of company Thor might have. It stings, surely, but Loki is practical. And right now that practicality is making him contact the only Asgardian on this planet, because there's no doctor here that can help him.
And Loki really doesn't feel like dying just yet. Then again, if he is this dependent on Thor of all people, then his days are surely numbered anyway.
The fact that this is the first time they talk since... that is not exactly helping things any, and Loki notices with certain disdain that his hands are shaking as he dials. But above all else, Loki is pragmatic and it has to be done.
"Anthony, if this is your idea of a joke--" Thor thunders on the other end, but all Loki needs to do is clear his throat a little to stop the impending monologue. "By the gods, Loki! Are you alright?"
"What makes you think I am not?" He just has to, obviously. Some habits simply die hard.
"Well, lately you haven't... you know." Loki can just see him, that little frown that signals that Thor is uncomfortable, the sentiment seeping from his voice like wine from a leaky barrel. But there is something else there too, so much concern it should make Loki feel bad about ever resorting to this, but for some reason it doesn't. "You know, if it's something I di--"
"Don't be preposterous," Loki shoots back, but the near violent churning of his insides reminds him of the bigger picture. "I might require a bit of assistance here, though."
"Are you alright?" Of course, Thor wouldn't give this a second guess. He'd let himself be dragged into a trap and killed, if only Loki actually bothered. Of course.
"I--" he starts instead and decides to stifle his sigh by pulling his fingers through his hair. "Can we talk? In private?" He may be sick, but he's not an idiot. He's quite aware of the fact that someone out there might be listening. All these little technological devices, no matter how handy and convenient they are, Loki knows they're a liability. He knows damned well, considering he'd taken up finding as many of them as he can as a sort of a hobby.
"Of course, brother," Thor says, and it grates on Loki's nerves. He has no idea why he's so nervous, but he obviously is. Then again, asking his sworn enemy for help after going to bed with him just a month ago... Loki should have been better than that. "Want me to--?"
"Same time, same place," Loki just says and waits for Thor's confirmation before hanging up. Another look at his own reflection and he contemplates teaching himself how to wear make up. It beats forming a hallucination. They're just so... tiring.
And Loki is too tired just living.
---
Loki wants to kill something. Then again, Thor's puppy eyes have always had that effect on him. Try and be angry with the idiot when he's doing... well, that.
"Loki..."
"Spare me." Brother, he almost adds, but he's just dying, not getting dumber. And it's embarrassing how long it takes for Loki to take a seat and make himself comfortable. It's funny. Last time, the place was full and they were having a hard time talking over the noise of the crowd. This time, the room is mostly empty and Thor has been more than kind to occupy a corner table.
When the waitress appears before them, Thor makes that damned face again. "Just water," Loki says with a forced smile. Thor orders coffee.
Well, that's a new development. Not exactly something Loki would have expected. Then again, he never expected to be poisoned, either. Not with the amount of pride he takes in his ability to take care of himself. Or at least, always watch his back.
"You don't look well." How very observant of Thor. Loki forces himself not to roll his eyes just yet.
"I'm sick," he admits.
"You ca--"
"I've been sick for a while now," he interrupts and Thor looks distressed. Not like Thor's expressions are hard to read. Or predict.
"How long?"
"A while."
"Well, you seemed okay--" Thor doesn't continue and Loki appreciates it. He clears his throat instead.
"About a week or so ago," Loki says and wants to shrug. He's too tired for shrugging. Just getting here feels like winning a small war in the first place. He'll leave shrugging for some other day.
"Are you sure?" Thor asks. Loki does roll his eyes this time. "I mean, you look so thin."
"Thank you for your observations, Thor." He sighs and Thor doesn't even bother to look mad in the least. "I didn't come for them, though."
"What did you come for, then?"
"I need--" Loki bites the inside of his cheek. This is way too hard, but just one thought of him throwing up after a few pieces of toast that he had to call breakfast this morning makes him feel all the braver. "These Midgardians. Their healers..."
"Suck," Thor is more than happy to supply. Loki simply looks up for a second, but he doesn't bother answering. At least Thor has the decency to produce a smile that is apologetic enough. "How many did you see before concluding that?" And why the hell is Thor amused now?
"None." Well, at least he should be frank. Since he's dying and all. Thor looks quite unimpressed and just a tiny little bit amused still. "Let me assure you, brother," oh he still knows how to make that word sting, that much is obvious, "if it were something simple enough for these idiots to treat, I would have dealt with it myself." He pauses, inhales. "If it were far greater than that, I would have dealt with it as well. And yet, I'm still sick."
"Do you know--" Thor starts, but Loki just shakes his head. It is amazing how fast Thor's expressions can change, and Loki knows thinking about this shouldn't make him want to smile. It's definitely bad for his villainous image.
The waitress returns with their orders, and whatever image be damned. Loki hides his face behind his sleeve because the smell of coffee makes bile rise in his throat.
"Can you...?" He tries. Thor stares with confusion and worry, and by the light of the Bifrost, Loki thinks, why does it have to be him? He gulps. "The coffee."
Were this any other situation, it would be fun to watch Thor looking at his mug and back to Loki as his mind is slowly piecing the puzzle together. Like this all Loki can do is groan before making a rather undignified dash for the restroom.
By the time he emerges, Thor is there, looking every bit ready to smash through walls if need be. And self-respect be damned too, but Loki actually feels grateful for his presence. Maybe. Just a little bit.
"Loki." Thor is the picture of anxiety, sizing him up with those damn eyes of his, making Loki feel so small all of a sudden.
So he straightens his clothes and forces those thoughts to the back of his mind. About time they got down to business. "Trust me, if I could help it, I would absolutely prefer to find another way of dealing with this."
"Loki--"
"However, we are running short of options. Could you possibly bring--"
"Loki," Thor cuts in, enough force this time to make Loki pause. "I'm taking you home," Thor adds with a bright smile and Loki blinks. Closes his mouth, opens it again, but it takes a moment to find his voice regardless.
"By the gods, grow a damned brain, will you?!" The change on Thor's face is spectacular, but he is still smiling, and it's driving Loki up a wall. "Ever occurred to you this might be a trick? That I might just want to go back and destroy everything?"
Thor just smiles wider, so disgustingly warm and knowing. "I'm taking you home, brother."
---
The thing is, Loki doesn't want to go home. Home. Such a deceptive word in his case. Nor does he want to be here, in this... woman's flat while she and Thor talk about him in the next room. He just wants to go on with his life of making everyone else's a bit more miserable. And not sit in the kitchen and stare at the door while he can hear pretty much every word whispered behind it.
Not that Thor is good at whispering to begin with.
Well, Jane doesn't like it. Jane doesn't like him. In Loki's humble opinion, that's a small victory more than anything else. He does smile once they emerge through the door, Thor obviously victorious and Jane looking as though Loki's very presence could only be matched by a slow death in the discomfort department.
Suits her well. Not that Loki is about to voice that one.
"See?" Thor smiles. "He's harmless." Jane sighs. Loki glares but decides against commenting. He kind of needs to go back to Asgard, because his life depends on it. And his life is a lot more important to him than Jane's imminent death.
"I still don't like this." Well, look at the little Midgardian growing a spine. Colour Loki surprised.
He doesn't voice that either. Of course.
"Look, Jane. He's my brother--"
"Am not," Loki states matter-of-factly.
"Oh, be quiet, will you," Thor says, and Loki finds himself squeezing his own nails into the palm of his hand not to smack Thor hard. "Loki..." Thor sighs. Loki still wants to smack him, but at least the idiot isn't causing him to prick his own skin anymore. "He's si--" Thor doesn't continue, but it's obvious he doesn't need to. Jane knows, and she sure as hell looks like someone who is still having a hard time figuring out what exactly could be wrong about Loki dying.
Not that Loki can blame her. The sentiment is mutual. He wouldn't mind seeing the girl wiped off the face of the planet either. It's rather ridiculous, surely. After all, Loki has known her for about twenty minutes altogether and half of that they didn't even spend in the same room.
Still, some things just are.
Like the fact that they need her help regardless of what Loki thinks of her, and once she utters Thor's name with a sigh, the man looks like he is at his wit's end. Loki's turn, obviously. How bloody typical.
"If you would be so kind," he hisses through his teeth, and Jane looks like there is something vicious and radioactive in her kitchen. Were he feeling any better, Loki wouldn't mind indulging that particular image.
"If S.H.I.E.L.D. finds out about this--" she starts, but Loki is not Thor and he knows all too well where this is going and how to use it.
"Well, they don't have to, do they now?"
"But--"
"I'm pretty sure Thor's involvement in this wouldn't be received too kindly at headquarters," Loki continues, and Jane swallows. Good. "However, I have my doubts about Agent Coulson having the means to contradict the words of someone who can bend the fabric of the universe."
"You are certain he is not planning anything, right?" Jane looks at Thor warily. Oh, this is victory, Loki can just taste it already.
"Absolute certain."
"Just think about it, if they gut me over there, you did your homeland a favour," Loki adds with a smile that is just too sly and he knows it. Jane makes a face.
"All right. Let's do this," she concedes, and Loki can't resist but squint his eyes at Thor because he's done it again and Thor can save the compliments.
Then he turns back to Jane once more. "Before that though... If you'll excuse me I think I need to use the bathroom."
---
Loki doesn't like the thought of Thor being so worried about him. And it's getting rather annoying when the two (well, three) of them are stuck in the same car and Loki would give his firstborn for all the bumps in the road to disappear. He's in enough pain as it is.
Thank god for the fact that it's been days since he's had a somewhat decent meal. Nothing in there that would like to come out. And once he gets better, once he gets back, he swears he's going to track down whoever did this and they are going to wish they'd never been born.
Then he realises that he's going back home, and there's simply no way for Odin not to know that one. And everyone else who wants to see Loki's head on a silver platter. Which is... pretty much the entirety of Asgard. And unlike here, he doesn't have such an advantage of superhuman strength and magical tricks.
Still, beats feeling as though everything that he touches, smells, eats or drinks irritates every organ inside his body. Everything beats that, at this point.
"Are you okay?"
Loki feels his hackles rise. If Thor asks him one more time, he's going to burn something.
"Loki?"
"I'm fine," he says. The car passes over another bump and Loki hisses.
"Something wrong?"
The whole world's wrong, Loki wants to say. If he needs a fucking nanny the size of Thor. "I'm fine," he repeats instead.
"You're not fine," Thor obviously has to. "I wish you were fine, but--"
"I'm fine," Loki snaps, in what he hopes is his proper end-of-discussion tone. Thor just sighs and offers that warm smile. And puppy eyes. Loki will burn something. Preferably this car. The moment the nausea passes. And the way this is going, it's definitely going to be a while. Oh, gods.
"Are you su--"
"Stop the car," Loki says, wheezing and pressing his hands over his own stomach. Obviously the fact that it is empty is completely unimportant right now. As long as his own body manages to embarrass him, because the moment Jane pulls over, Loki stumbles out and falls to all four in an instant, retching, vision clouding with the tears of exertion, trying to think what now. He hasn't eaten in a while.
Obviously, the poison reached the next stage, and it can only be downhill from here.
Like kneeling in the middle of bloody nowhere with his head in the dirt isn't rock bottom already.
Nothing comes out, because there's nothing to come out in the first place, and then he feels a hand patting him and through tear filled eyes he can't miss Thor kneeling right there. Even the blind would see that the idiot is worried. Loki wishes he could appreciate it.
"Want me to carry you?" Thor offers helpfully.
"Leave me alone," Loki says sharply.
"Oh, please, brother," Thor chides. "Here," he says, slides his arm under Loki's and helps him up as though he weights nothing more than a feather.
That is when Loki simply snaps, pushes Thor away and stumbles backwards, yells something that is as incomprehensible as it is insulting, and the next moment there's an explosion a few feet away. Once Loki glances at it, he sees a bush burning.
Well, good to know he's still capable of casting proper spells, regardless of his dignity. Thor seems impressed as well.
Not Jane, because the next moment she's right there, offering Loki a tissue. For a split second, he thinks he aimed at the wrong side, but then he takes the damned thing, because he actually could do with blowing his nose.
It's amazing just how much Thor can still drive him insane. Some things never change.
"Just... get in the car." Jane says then, her gaze less than appreciative. Loki would love to come up with something nasty to that, but Thor obeys wordlessly, and there doesn't seem to be much point after that. "Seat-belts," she adds, and Loki rolls his eyes.
"If you seriously think--"
"Just do as I say and manage another half an hour, okay?" Jane rants at him, running a hand through her hair before starting up the engine again. "Good god, how do I even explain this to Coulson," she says after a few minutes of nothing but the low purr of the engine cutting the silence inside the car.
"Sudden localised particle collision?" Loki offers helpfully, just the opportunity to keep his mind away from here and now helps him feel a tiny bit better. "I suggest W bosons. I mean, you can't leave the t quark solely to the Swiss. And besides, the Higgs boson would surely nominate you for the Sakurai prize, and what physicist wouldn't want that? I'm sure Agent Coulson would understand."
"The... wait, what?" Jane looks like someone caught between an epic headache and spontaneous combustion. Loki grins and shrugs, definitely feeling a bit better.
There's this lone tree whose silhouette he spots on the horizon on top of a small hill to his left. It seems old and dying and not many leaves are still remaining on it. So there's no waste in it suddenly lighting up and starting to burn. Together with a row of bushes on the other side of the road. Loki's smile grows, if only a bit. "Next time you shouldn't leave your notes on his nightstand," he says almost cheerfully, pointing at Thor.
This entry was originally posted at http://sphinxofthenile.dreamwidth.org/137843.html.
Authors:
sphinxofthenile and
ice_lady
Fandom: The Avengers, Thor
Pairing: Loki/Thor
Rating: PG13
Disclaimer: Do not own. Make no money. Mean no harm.
Summary: Even evil geniuses with world domination tendencies, an IQ far too high for this realm and too much free time on their hands have to find something to do on a Friday night.
Warning: Mpreg, incest, just another making-it-better fic.
A/N: I would love to blame
amcw177 for this in some shape or form, but I'm afraid this time it was my fault. I regret nothing.
Word count: 12860
---
Thor is an idiot. One doesn't have to be a genius to figure that out. One just needs a pair of eyes. Maybe not even that. Thor is... stupid, gullible, simple, laughable, half-witted, thickheaded... Stupid.
And Loki is obviously all that squared for indulging the idiot.
But even evil geniuses with world domination tendencies, an IQ far too high for this realm and too much free time on their hands have to find something to do on a Friday night. Besides, Thor said he was paying. Though the way this is going, Loki knows all too well he's never going to reach the level where his own consumption, and by that the expense, could possibly surpass his brother's.
Oh right. Thor isn't his brother anymore. He never was Loki's brother.
"My glass seems to be empty," Loki observes. Quite intelligently, even if he says so himself, regardless of the drunken slur that's rather audible in his voice at this point. And the sheer amount of alcohol required to make Loki drunk is indeed to be blamed for him thinking it's rather adorable seeing Thor's hand instantly shoot up as the man beckons the bartender.
He still hates Thor, though. If nothing, for the mere fact that the moron had about twice as many glasses and yet he seems to be holding up rather well. Stupid Asgardians and their love for all things crude and festive, and... booze.
No wonder Loki never fit in, in retrospect.
Why in the name of the gods is he even here? Oh, yes. Because Thor asked him to. Because for some weird, stupid reason Thor still has this solid conviction that he can talk Loki out of his villainy and then everybody would live happily ever after. And Loki was bored enough with the silence of his lodgings to put up with the cheap entertainment of making fun of his oaf of an... adoptive brother. Wasn't that the term these pathetic mortals would use? Even Loki has to hand it to them, they have a talent for prettifying their ugly realities.
"Your mood seems clouded, brother," Thor remarks, and Loki produces what he hopes is enough of a glare.
"I wasn't aware there was reason not to," he shoots back dryly, wishing his glass weren't as hopelessly empty as it is. These Midgardian folks, no good at even such simple tasks. Sometimes, Loki seriously has to wonder if they're even worth all that trouble. Too late to ponder that now. "And don't call me that. Or has this horrendous liquid already ruined your memory enough to forget?" he adds with a sneer.
Instead of insulted though, Thor just looks hurt. Suddenly Loki finds the very purpose of his visit being defeated as a cold sort of feeling settles in his stomach. Stupid boar, taking the fun out of everything. Or maybe that's the booze. Either way, Loki is rather happy to receive his refill. Easier to focus on that than the look in Thor's eyes.
Maybe he really shouldn't have come.
"You shall always remain a brother to me Loki, no matter what," Thor says, and the warmth in his voice is grating on Loki's nerves like sandpaper on an open wound. Then again, he probably should have expected it. Thor, always the trusting, naive fool, with his noble honor and stupid heart of gold and...
"Well, things have changed!" Loki blurts out a little too loudly, his glass cracking as it hits the counter. A glance around and he adjusts his volume because people are staring and it's making him uncomfortable enough. They really shouldn't be having this conversation in public.
They should not be having this conversation.
"Lies, all lies," he hisses in a low tone, avoiding to look at Thor because he knows what he would see there and it's stirring things inside him he thought long dead.
"Is that really what you think?" That tone is still so warm, just the slightest bit amused, as though it is Loki who is the simpleton here and not the other way round.
He wants to laugh at the sheer ridiculousness of such a notion, but somehow he cannot. So he just snorts instead. "Nostalgia will indeed be your downfall, Thor. Downfall of you all."
"Even so, I'd rather keep my fond memories. What would this life be worth without them?" Thor asks with a smile, and it's doing things to Loki's throat that no smile or words should do. Ever.
"Odin's beard, brother," Loki mocks, raising an eyebrow. "Big words for such a small mind you've got there."
Thor laughs, in that drunken, boisterous way of his that is thunderous enough to make glass shake and infectious enough to pull Loki along, even though he hates Thor for it and definitely himself. "Just like good ole times, eh?" Thor pats him on the shoulder and Loki has to fight hard to prevent a rather indignant sound slipping past his lips.
Overgrown idiot never quite fully aware of his own strength, and especially not when drunk. Just like old times indeed, and it makes Loki grit his teeth because it's all so damn unfair.
All the things he's been robbed of. They have been stripped of like it had never been. Oh, Loki remembers them, he remembers them quite well. He sometimes wishes he didn't, because maybe then he wouldn't feel so much burning contempt, so much hate.
To think he came here just to have some fun. He's tempted to leave now, oh is he ever, but--
It really isn't like old times. There's no scent of hay and mead and open fires here, no roars of laughter at crude jokes and cruel teasing. Unlike the great halls of their home, there are no boasting warriors here, or smiling handmaids with knowing eyes. It occurs to him with the jarring clarity of too much drink how alone they really are in this strange land. "Not really, no," he murmurs under his breath, and once he looks at Thor he sees so much understanding there.
It's all so unfair.
---
He's the God of Mischief, not Evil. That's the only reason why Loki doesn't leave Thor to tend to himself, of course. Even though dragging his brother's-- Thor's massive body (massive drunken body) around is anything but a fun way to end this evening.
Loki has to wonder, though. At which point did the roles reverse exactly? Sure, Loki's drunk, but when did Thor catch up with him? Most of the evening was the other way around, but not anymore it seems.
And Loki knows he should have left while he still had the chance. Like this, happy or not, Thor is his responsibility and Loki can't just leave him at the mercy of these... puny Midgardians. Even though at this point he can practically hear the creaks in his own knees as he tries to offer some sort of a balance to the drunken god leaning onto his shoulders.
His legs have obviously been failing him for the last half an hour, and yet Thor still has enough mental capacity to be chuckling and snorting at every stupid little thing. Like the fact that someone drew a smiley face onto the concrete under their feet.
While Loki sometimes regrets certain things, at times like these he's more than happy with the knowledge that he shares no blood relation with that oaf.
Even though said oaf's chuckles seem so disgustingly... infectious.
Gods, it has been a while, hasn't it? No that Loki actually misses those times. Of course.
"For the love of Freyja, what do they feed you down here?" he complains in an exasperated whisper, but Thor obviously hears him regardless. Note to self, making Thor laugh in their current condition is strongly counterproductive.
"Pancakes is the name, I believe. Granted, nowhere close to mother's pies..."
Mother's.
Loki lets go.
Thor lands on his ass and laughs again.
"Why am I even bothering," Loki mutters and rolls his eyes but it just causes the world to make weird flips around him, so he gives up on that for the time being.
"Alcohol used to relax you, brother," Thor says from down below, and Loki sighs as he decides his legs are in too much pain for him to care about his dignity. There's no one here to see his graceless slump. "What do I do now to stop you from being so... uptight?"
At this point, Loki is happy that he's sitting, regardless of the fact that the concrete is dirty, and he knows Thor's dwellings are nearby. If a small box these Midgardians manage to fill up so effectively could be called thus.
"This place has been good for you," he observes and Thor just grins, his cheeks flushed and eyes unfocused and Loki remembers that one drunken fight where Sif kicked their respective behinds for trashing the kitchen. And Thor laughing so hard in spite the confession that he felt like every bone in his body had been broken.
Why is Loki even thinking about those things? Long past. Unimportant. Forgotten.
"Why?" Thor asks.
"Teaching you big words," Loki says and Thor's laughter is so loud Loki swears he can hear it shake the windows on these big buildings that surround them.
"Seems like strength isn't the be all and end all around here," the man adds and Loki bites the inside of his cheeks not to snort.
Thor's eyes are so ridiculously soft, regardless of their lack of focus, and Loki looks down to the dirty concrete before he decides to pull himself up clumsily, drunkenly, help Thor as well. If he managed to drag this bear sized man all the way to his building, Loki will sure as hell drag him to his flat. Even if it's the last thing he does.
Even if he needs to avoid eye contact all the while trying to help Thor to his feet, because those eyes are killing him. Stirring things up inside that Loki thought long gone. He thought he killed them a lifetime ago. Well obviously not.
The walk up a flight of stairs is torrid at best. Dragging Thor around ground level is one thing, but this feels like breaking the laws of physics. Not that Loki isn't good in that department, but he has a distinct feeling Thor's neighbours wouldn't appreciate his tricks. Nor would Thor, come morning.
It's like a mountain falling off his shoulders (quite literally at that) once Thor lets go and flunks onto the mattress of his far too small bed in this far too small cage of plastic and concrete. And Loki is far too drained and tired himself not to do the same, his ego be damned.
They're both drunk, Thor hopefully won't remember this in the morning, and Loki just needs a moment of staring at that ugly ceiling that is not white enough nor polished enough for his bro-- Thor. Not that Thor ever had any taste whatsoever.
"What is this?" he hears Thor ask, and Loki cranes his head to the left, curious. "No nasty comments about my lack of style or decorum?"
Loki chuckles despite himself as he does his best to shake his head. Not while lying on his back, obviously. Not while Thor is looking at him like that.
"I'm shocked, brother." It stings, the word. Loki wants to say it and smack Thor over the head, keep on pounding until something breaks, though he has no idea whether he's thinking of Thor or himself.
So unfair.
"You are a lousy host," Loki has to say. Just to keep his dignity. Or keep himself from really reacting.
It's pointless, of course, because Thor rolls onto his side, smiles, and then extends one arm. Loki freezes, because villains and deities that are up to no good in general are supposed to be wary of everything and everyone.
He's also too drunk to bolt out through the front door once he feels Thor's fingers on his temple, gentle, sliding down to his ear and tucking a strand of Loki's hair behind it. And then there are feelings that he knows he shouldn't have, far too many years which he spent berating himself and his ridiculous ideas.
None of this should matter now. Thor and he aren't brothers anymore. And maybe, just maybe, Loki should just close his eyes instead of trying to come up with ways to harm Thor.
He's far too drunk for all of this. So is Thor. And the implications of these last few seconds seem far too grand for this planet and definitely beyond the scope of Loki's alcohol drowned mind. Regardless of how well adapted it is to deal with mayhem and bloodshed in general.
Loki sighs and closes his eyes, smiling a little when he feels Thor's lips on his own.
---
Loki snaps out of his sleep, eyes unfocused and burning. It was no nightmare that caused this, Loki knows. He rarely dreams, anyway. His body never betrays him, and waking up so suddenly is more of a survival instinct than a deficiency.
It's early, he knows as much. Definitely too early considering the time he went to bed last night. Not like going to bed is the operative word in this case. But as the image of that ugly ceiling in all its bright morning glory starts to slowly draw out in his line of sight, the ache at the back of his head and neck appears with a vengeance.
He's naked, he realises, and besides his head, other parts of his body hurt as well. He smiles.
Then he bites his tongue, because his mind is more than happy to provide explanations that are as horrifying as they are logical. Logical but senseless. Pointless. Ridiculous.
He smiles again.
And then he cranes his head.
Thor is still sleeping. Like a baby, Loki would like to think, because he spent a lifetime berating his brother, as berating was easier than dealing with all that baggage. Well, no more baggage to deal with, obviously. All out in the open. Loki has had hots (or isn't that how they call it here? Hots. Considering Loki's true origin, the irony isn't lost on him) for the person he considered his brother for a good chunk of his life. There's surely someone out there who will one day find humour in it all. Not Thor, he hopes.
Loki also hopes Thor won't remember a thing once he wakes up. Would make things easier, surely. On both ends.
He slips out of the bed stealthily. Sure, he could will himself out of it, to the other side of the world if he so desires, but no reason for magic. It would alarm Thor, because dumb as Thor is, he's grown much better at sensing magic in this world of black and gray, and the last thing Loki needs now is to see those eyes again. Even for a split second.
He's too sober for it. Definitely too sober. And filled with too many regrets that better dissipate in the next few hours. Or else.
Standing up, he regrets drinking. Ever. Promises himself he won't do such a thing again, but knows damned well it's futile.
He's certainly not drinking with Thor anymore. Loki may be the type to live for solving riddles (and causing chaos), but he's not complicating his life to this point. World domination, yes. All that and his brother. No.
He should also stop thinking of Thor as his brother while he's at it. Making all these new promises and all. Accompanied by all these revelations he should have kept buried.
Good god, what has he done? Besides gotten drunk to the point of finally ignoring that voice inside his head constantly telling him just how wrong this is. Just how futile it is. Just how... inadequate he'd always felt. Hard to say no to the puppy eyes, because Thor has always been so full of joy, so over-excited, so happy. So pompous and boisterous and annoying.
And fucking everybody always wanted Thor. So Loki did not.
Because Thor was his brother...
But Loki had always been... curious. And it's just not a sin anymore.
So why not. No shame, no regret. Ever. Of course.
With Thor ever too happy to please and forget everything Loki has ever done him wrong. Over and over again. If Loki were a little more evil he'd be using up that fact this very moment. He'd be using that fact from day one. The humans would stand no chance. Which makes him wonder just how stupid he actually is.
Splitting headache or not, he grabs all his belongings stealthily, and slips out. Thor doesn't flinch. Poor idiot probably won't even remember. Well, at least one of them is blessed with that ability. At times like these Loki wishes he'd have half his brain. Half Thor's brain.
Thor was wrong, though. Not like that's any news. Nostalgia is quite pointless. For a split second Loki wishes to go back and rub this into Thor's face. The irony of it all is that it would make Loki so damned happy. That he'd be able to.
He doesn't, of course. Last night never happened.
---
Loki is dying.
There's no other possible explanation. He's been poisoned and he's dying. He's been perfectly fine the day before, a little brawl with Coulson's agents and a case of messed up telecommunications. A good dinner afterwards at a nice restaurant. Nothing out of the ordinary.
Just to wake up to feeling more sick than he ever remembers being, body wrecked with shivers despite the heating being on and the contents of his stomach coming back to say hello to daylight with a bloody vengeance. And this is just not normal.
Thanks to Thor and his utter dumbness, Loki has been through far less cases of poisoning during their childhood than he actually should have. Still, he's had his fair share of trying whatever interesting looking substance came his way. He has to come to the conclusion that this is something far more vicious after a couple of hours spent leaning over the sink and praying to all the known and unknown gods that he survives this. Whatever this might be.
Sadly, once the nausea retreats to more tolerable levels Loki has to make peace with the fact that this is merely a sort of respite because he is still feeling weak as a newborn kitten and merely thinking of any sort of food makes him want to actually die just to end this misery once and for all.
He tries everything in the book as well as out of it, water and herbal teas and even a bit of alcohol, despite the fact that he promised himself not to drink ever again. But these things available to him are just mere replacements for real and proper medicine he would have no problems finding in Asgard. If only.
A few hours and a handful of destroyed buildings later, the God of Mischief simply breaks down crying with the frightening realisation that he has no particular reason to do so aside from the fact that he could kill for a good serving of Frigga's berry cake with some pickled mushroom on the side.
He is obviously losing his mind too.
And then the same thing happens the next day. And the third day seems even worse. By fourth, he's contemplating suicide, or at least calling someone, but somehow he manages without either. It seems to be getting better after that and, while Loki would love to find out what on earth happened, at this point he's smart enough just to be grateful for the ability to eat returning to him.
Not for long though, and he hides. The imminent world domination will just have to wait, because Loki is happier hugging a pillow, or a blanket, or well anything that's soft and warm and not stinking to the point of making his stomach twist. He never knew one could be so sensitive to smells.
He's not sure how many days pass, but one morning he catches a glance of himself in the mirror, and he looks awful. Sunken cheeks and dark, baggy eyes. His fingers feel so bony and he can't stop the shivers. Makes him think that this is a slow acting poison, which means he has time, but that's not exactly a comforting thought. Not when he feels like someone injected acid into his digestive system.
That's when he finally breaks and calls Thor.
Sure, he can appear right in the middle of the man's flat, but there are quite sensible reasons as to why he's not doing exactly that. Besides, one never knows what kind of company Thor might have. It stings, surely, but Loki is practical. And right now that practicality is making him contact the only Asgardian on this planet, because there's no doctor here that can help him.
And Loki really doesn't feel like dying just yet. Then again, if he is this dependent on Thor of all people, then his days are surely numbered anyway.
The fact that this is the first time they talk since... that is not exactly helping things any, and Loki notices with certain disdain that his hands are shaking as he dials. But above all else, Loki is pragmatic and it has to be done.
"Anthony, if this is your idea of a joke--" Thor thunders on the other end, but all Loki needs to do is clear his throat a little to stop the impending monologue. "By the gods, Loki! Are you alright?"
"What makes you think I am not?" He just has to, obviously. Some habits simply die hard.
"Well, lately you haven't... you know." Loki can just see him, that little frown that signals that Thor is uncomfortable, the sentiment seeping from his voice like wine from a leaky barrel. But there is something else there too, so much concern it should make Loki feel bad about ever resorting to this, but for some reason it doesn't. "You know, if it's something I di--"
"Don't be preposterous," Loki shoots back, but the near violent churning of his insides reminds him of the bigger picture. "I might require a bit of assistance here, though."
"Are you alright?" Of course, Thor wouldn't give this a second guess. He'd let himself be dragged into a trap and killed, if only Loki actually bothered. Of course.
"I--" he starts instead and decides to stifle his sigh by pulling his fingers through his hair. "Can we talk? In private?" He may be sick, but he's not an idiot. He's quite aware of the fact that someone out there might be listening. All these little technological devices, no matter how handy and convenient they are, Loki knows they're a liability. He knows damned well, considering he'd taken up finding as many of them as he can as a sort of a hobby.
"Of course, brother," Thor says, and it grates on Loki's nerves. He has no idea why he's so nervous, but he obviously is. Then again, asking his sworn enemy for help after going to bed with him just a month ago... Loki should have been better than that. "Want me to--?"
"Same time, same place," Loki just says and waits for Thor's confirmation before hanging up. Another look at his own reflection and he contemplates teaching himself how to wear make up. It beats forming a hallucination. They're just so... tiring.
And Loki is too tired just living.
---
Loki wants to kill something. Then again, Thor's puppy eyes have always had that effect on him. Try and be angry with the idiot when he's doing... well, that.
"Loki..."
"Spare me." Brother, he almost adds, but he's just dying, not getting dumber. And it's embarrassing how long it takes for Loki to take a seat and make himself comfortable. It's funny. Last time, the place was full and they were having a hard time talking over the noise of the crowd. This time, the room is mostly empty and Thor has been more than kind to occupy a corner table.
When the waitress appears before them, Thor makes that damned face again. "Just water," Loki says with a forced smile. Thor orders coffee.
Well, that's a new development. Not exactly something Loki would have expected. Then again, he never expected to be poisoned, either. Not with the amount of pride he takes in his ability to take care of himself. Or at least, always watch his back.
"You don't look well." How very observant of Thor. Loki forces himself not to roll his eyes just yet.
"I'm sick," he admits.
"You ca--"
"I've been sick for a while now," he interrupts and Thor looks distressed. Not like Thor's expressions are hard to read. Or predict.
"How long?"
"A while."
"Well, you seemed okay--" Thor doesn't continue and Loki appreciates it. He clears his throat instead.
"About a week or so ago," Loki says and wants to shrug. He's too tired for shrugging. Just getting here feels like winning a small war in the first place. He'll leave shrugging for some other day.
"Are you sure?" Thor asks. Loki does roll his eyes this time. "I mean, you look so thin."
"Thank you for your observations, Thor." He sighs and Thor doesn't even bother to look mad in the least. "I didn't come for them, though."
"What did you come for, then?"
"I need--" Loki bites the inside of his cheek. This is way too hard, but just one thought of him throwing up after a few pieces of toast that he had to call breakfast this morning makes him feel all the braver. "These Midgardians. Their healers..."
"Suck," Thor is more than happy to supply. Loki simply looks up for a second, but he doesn't bother answering. At least Thor has the decency to produce a smile that is apologetic enough. "How many did you see before concluding that?" And why the hell is Thor amused now?
"None." Well, at least he should be frank. Since he's dying and all. Thor looks quite unimpressed and just a tiny little bit amused still. "Let me assure you, brother," oh he still knows how to make that word sting, that much is obvious, "if it were something simple enough for these idiots to treat, I would have dealt with it myself." He pauses, inhales. "If it were far greater than that, I would have dealt with it as well. And yet, I'm still sick."
"Do you know--" Thor starts, but Loki just shakes his head. It is amazing how fast Thor's expressions can change, and Loki knows thinking about this shouldn't make him want to smile. It's definitely bad for his villainous image.
The waitress returns with their orders, and whatever image be damned. Loki hides his face behind his sleeve because the smell of coffee makes bile rise in his throat.
"Can you...?" He tries. Thor stares with confusion and worry, and by the light of the Bifrost, Loki thinks, why does it have to be him? He gulps. "The coffee."
Were this any other situation, it would be fun to watch Thor looking at his mug and back to Loki as his mind is slowly piecing the puzzle together. Like this all Loki can do is groan before making a rather undignified dash for the restroom.
By the time he emerges, Thor is there, looking every bit ready to smash through walls if need be. And self-respect be damned too, but Loki actually feels grateful for his presence. Maybe. Just a little bit.
"Loki." Thor is the picture of anxiety, sizing him up with those damn eyes of his, making Loki feel so small all of a sudden.
So he straightens his clothes and forces those thoughts to the back of his mind. About time they got down to business. "Trust me, if I could help it, I would absolutely prefer to find another way of dealing with this."
"Loki--"
"However, we are running short of options. Could you possibly bring--"
"Loki," Thor cuts in, enough force this time to make Loki pause. "I'm taking you home," Thor adds with a bright smile and Loki blinks. Closes his mouth, opens it again, but it takes a moment to find his voice regardless.
"By the gods, grow a damned brain, will you?!" The change on Thor's face is spectacular, but he is still smiling, and it's driving Loki up a wall. "Ever occurred to you this might be a trick? That I might just want to go back and destroy everything?"
Thor just smiles wider, so disgustingly warm and knowing. "I'm taking you home, brother."
---
The thing is, Loki doesn't want to go home. Home. Such a deceptive word in his case. Nor does he want to be here, in this... woman's flat while she and Thor talk about him in the next room. He just wants to go on with his life of making everyone else's a bit more miserable. And not sit in the kitchen and stare at the door while he can hear pretty much every word whispered behind it.
Not that Thor is good at whispering to begin with.
Well, Jane doesn't like it. Jane doesn't like him. In Loki's humble opinion, that's a small victory more than anything else. He does smile once they emerge through the door, Thor obviously victorious and Jane looking as though Loki's very presence could only be matched by a slow death in the discomfort department.
Suits her well. Not that Loki is about to voice that one.
"See?" Thor smiles. "He's harmless." Jane sighs. Loki glares but decides against commenting. He kind of needs to go back to Asgard, because his life depends on it. And his life is a lot more important to him than Jane's imminent death.
"I still don't like this." Well, look at the little Midgardian growing a spine. Colour Loki surprised.
He doesn't voice that either. Of course.
"Look, Jane. He's my brother--"
"Am not," Loki states matter-of-factly.
"Oh, be quiet, will you," Thor says, and Loki finds himself squeezing his own nails into the palm of his hand not to smack Thor hard. "Loki..." Thor sighs. Loki still wants to smack him, but at least the idiot isn't causing him to prick his own skin anymore. "He's si--" Thor doesn't continue, but it's obvious he doesn't need to. Jane knows, and she sure as hell looks like someone who is still having a hard time figuring out what exactly could be wrong about Loki dying.
Not that Loki can blame her. The sentiment is mutual. He wouldn't mind seeing the girl wiped off the face of the planet either. It's rather ridiculous, surely. After all, Loki has known her for about twenty minutes altogether and half of that they didn't even spend in the same room.
Still, some things just are.
Like the fact that they need her help regardless of what Loki thinks of her, and once she utters Thor's name with a sigh, the man looks like he is at his wit's end. Loki's turn, obviously. How bloody typical.
"If you would be so kind," he hisses through his teeth, and Jane looks like there is something vicious and radioactive in her kitchen. Were he feeling any better, Loki wouldn't mind indulging that particular image.
"If S.H.I.E.L.D. finds out about this--" she starts, but Loki is not Thor and he knows all too well where this is going and how to use it.
"Well, they don't have to, do they now?"
"But--"
"I'm pretty sure Thor's involvement in this wouldn't be received too kindly at headquarters," Loki continues, and Jane swallows. Good. "However, I have my doubts about Agent Coulson having the means to contradict the words of someone who can bend the fabric of the universe."
"You are certain he is not planning anything, right?" Jane looks at Thor warily. Oh, this is victory, Loki can just taste it already.
"Absolute certain."
"Just think about it, if they gut me over there, you did your homeland a favour," Loki adds with a smile that is just too sly and he knows it. Jane makes a face.
"All right. Let's do this," she concedes, and Loki can't resist but squint his eyes at Thor because he's done it again and Thor can save the compliments.
Then he turns back to Jane once more. "Before that though... If you'll excuse me I think I need to use the bathroom."
---
Loki doesn't like the thought of Thor being so worried about him. And it's getting rather annoying when the two (well, three) of them are stuck in the same car and Loki would give his firstborn for all the bumps in the road to disappear. He's in enough pain as it is.
Thank god for the fact that it's been days since he's had a somewhat decent meal. Nothing in there that would like to come out. And once he gets better, once he gets back, he swears he's going to track down whoever did this and they are going to wish they'd never been born.
Then he realises that he's going back home, and there's simply no way for Odin not to know that one. And everyone else who wants to see Loki's head on a silver platter. Which is... pretty much the entirety of Asgard. And unlike here, he doesn't have such an advantage of superhuman strength and magical tricks.
Still, beats feeling as though everything that he touches, smells, eats or drinks irritates every organ inside his body. Everything beats that, at this point.
"Are you okay?"
Loki feels his hackles rise. If Thor asks him one more time, he's going to burn something.
"Loki?"
"I'm fine," he says. The car passes over another bump and Loki hisses.
"Something wrong?"
The whole world's wrong, Loki wants to say. If he needs a fucking nanny the size of Thor. "I'm fine," he repeats instead.
"You're not fine," Thor obviously has to. "I wish you were fine, but--"
"I'm fine," Loki snaps, in what he hopes is his proper end-of-discussion tone. Thor just sighs and offers that warm smile. And puppy eyes. Loki will burn something. Preferably this car. The moment the nausea passes. And the way this is going, it's definitely going to be a while. Oh, gods.
"Are you su--"
"Stop the car," Loki says, wheezing and pressing his hands over his own stomach. Obviously the fact that it is empty is completely unimportant right now. As long as his own body manages to embarrass him, because the moment Jane pulls over, Loki stumbles out and falls to all four in an instant, retching, vision clouding with the tears of exertion, trying to think what now. He hasn't eaten in a while.
Obviously, the poison reached the next stage, and it can only be downhill from here.
Like kneeling in the middle of bloody nowhere with his head in the dirt isn't rock bottom already.
Nothing comes out, because there's nothing to come out in the first place, and then he feels a hand patting him and through tear filled eyes he can't miss Thor kneeling right there. Even the blind would see that the idiot is worried. Loki wishes he could appreciate it.
"Want me to carry you?" Thor offers helpfully.
"Leave me alone," Loki says sharply.
"Oh, please, brother," Thor chides. "Here," he says, slides his arm under Loki's and helps him up as though he weights nothing more than a feather.
That is when Loki simply snaps, pushes Thor away and stumbles backwards, yells something that is as incomprehensible as it is insulting, and the next moment there's an explosion a few feet away. Once Loki glances at it, he sees a bush burning.
Well, good to know he's still capable of casting proper spells, regardless of his dignity. Thor seems impressed as well.
Not Jane, because the next moment she's right there, offering Loki a tissue. For a split second, he thinks he aimed at the wrong side, but then he takes the damned thing, because he actually could do with blowing his nose.
It's amazing just how much Thor can still drive him insane. Some things never change.
"Just... get in the car." Jane says then, her gaze less than appreciative. Loki would love to come up with something nasty to that, but Thor obeys wordlessly, and there doesn't seem to be much point after that. "Seat-belts," she adds, and Loki rolls his eyes.
"If you seriously think--"
"Just do as I say and manage another half an hour, okay?" Jane rants at him, running a hand through her hair before starting up the engine again. "Good god, how do I even explain this to Coulson," she says after a few minutes of nothing but the low purr of the engine cutting the silence inside the car.
"Sudden localised particle collision?" Loki offers helpfully, just the opportunity to keep his mind away from here and now helps him feel a tiny bit better. "I suggest W bosons. I mean, you can't leave the t quark solely to the Swiss. And besides, the Higgs boson would surely nominate you for the Sakurai prize, and what physicist wouldn't want that? I'm sure Agent Coulson would understand."
"The... wait, what?" Jane looks like someone caught between an epic headache and spontaneous combustion. Loki grins and shrugs, definitely feeling a bit better.
There's this lone tree whose silhouette he spots on the horizon on top of a small hill to his left. It seems old and dying and not many leaves are still remaining on it. So there's no waste in it suddenly lighting up and starting to burn. Together with a row of bushes on the other side of the road. Loki's smile grows, if only a bit. "Next time you shouldn't leave your notes on his nightstand," he says almost cheerfully, pointing at Thor.
This entry was originally posted at http://sphinxofthenile.dreamwidth.org/137843.html.