Hidden Troubles

6 | What's Up With Rudolph?

A couple more weeks went by, and Loki only seemed to be getting worse in the eyes of the Avengers. But what could they do? They barely ever saw the god; he'd come from whatever he'd been doing all exhausted and tired-looking, skin getting paler and the shadows under his eyes getting darker. They found they could only watch him walk off and hole himself up in his room until the next day. Though their concern was indeed present, they couldn't bring themselves to go and talk to the guy. They'd become far too accustomed to his isolation, and both parties wanted to keep it that way.

Loki meanwhile, had descended even further into the dark pit he'd unknowingly dug himself into. It was funny how just over a month ago, he'd been having three full meals, and went to bed with a warm and satisfied stomach. Now everything was so much more different. Coffee and water fuelled his day, and he only ever got some coffee when an avenger wasn't present in the kitchen. Very rarely he allowed himself a piece of fruit, but he often found himself crying the second he'd taken a bite to the moment he'd finished it, as the voices in his head screamed at him for ruining everything.

The broken god couldn't understand why he still looked so fat. He could still see the fat on his thighs, how they seem to expand by miles. He thought he could still feel those contemptible rolls of fat everywhere, swallowing him whole, encasing him in a greasy cocoon. But if he saw himself through the eyes of others, he would've seen something else. How the clothes he wore swallowed him whole, collecting in bundles all around him. How Steve once caught him as he swayed unsteadily in a corridor one day, and how the soldier could feel the far too prominent ribs even from underneath all the material. His face was far too gaunt now, cheekbones far too obvious and much more haggard than usual—so pallid it was just unhealthy. He looked sick, but most of all he looked broken.

After Steve had caught him from almost fainting, he decided an intervention was necessary.

***

Unlike their previous discussion about Loki, where they'd all circumstantially ended up in the same room, the Captain called them all for a meeting in the communal room. By the time he entered, they were all sprawled out on the furniture and the floor, a mild air of curiosity as to what the meeting could be about.

"I swear if it's another Doombot invasion I'm going to lose it. I can't deal with that crackpot and his little army again." Clint moaned, reclining on one of the sofas. He'd suffered a particularly nasty hit to his side which ached whenever he worked out for more than about half an hour. Which was always.

"Well, it looks like we're about to find out," Tony said at the sound of steady footsteps. "Hey, Capsicle. Wanna tell us what this little get together is about? Not that I don't love spending time with you all but I've got a little something going on down in the lab so..."

"I won't hold you long." He took a breath before he spoke again. "I want to talk about Loki."

"Oh god, not him again." Clint rose to leave but was stopped by Steve's uncharacteristically frustrated glare.

"Clint, just stick around. Please. Just hear me out." Clint sulked back into the sofa, but his eyes were a tad more attentive than before.

"Ok, good. Well, I think whatever's going on with Loki is a lot more serious than we thought. He looks even worse than two weeks ago, and I didn't even think that was possible. Has anyone even spoken to him?"

He was greeted by an uncomfortable silence. Clearly not then. Steve still felt guilty; he hadn't really spoken to Loki either. He'd simply followed everyone's lead, treating him like the unwanted prisoner they saw him as. But he was a person, just like them.

"It's a bit difficult, to be honest," Natasha said,"he locks himself up in his room the second he comes back from his sentence. He doesn't speak in the mornings when we're going there. He doesn't speak during it. He's basically a moving statue."

"Has he even spoken to anyone recently?" Another silence. Oh it gets better, Steve thought. So-called leader of the Avengers and I can't even look after everyone in this building.

"Well," Tony clapped his hands together and sat up in his armchair, "now that that's all been brought to light, what do you propose we do, Spangles?"

They all looked to him for an answer. "I think...I think we need to have a word with him. Tell him that we're aware that things aren't...right. See what he has to say about it." The rest of the team nodded.

"And when do we plan on doing this?"

"No time like the present I say. Shall I get JARVIS to send him down?"

Tony took the hesitantly bobbing heads as a collective "yes".

"Send him down J."

***

Loki had been lying on the floor, panting heavily with a sheen of sweat on his forehead when he got the summons to go down. He'd recently started working out to burn more calories, in the hopes that it would speed up the weight loss and he'd finally been able to see some progress. The sheer frustration at seemingly seeing no change in himself only made him more and more determined, and it was with that tenacity that Loki had started working out. Twenty minutes later and he was absolutely exhausted. He was all but ready to fall asleep there and then when JARVIS interrupted the peace.

"Mr Odinson, Mr Stark would like you to go to the communal room at your earliest convenience."

Loki flinched at the sound of the "ghost's" voice, but groaned soon after. He didn't even have the energy to correct the voice. But still, what could they want with him? And why now? He'd been a model prisoner of late— staying out of their way, doing what he was told, completing his tasks without verbal complaint, even arriving on time every morning by the doors. He was no longer as rebellious or mischievous as he'd once been. Plans of world domination had been replaced by his latest and most dangerous obsession of perfection.

Sighing heavily, he forced himself to stand on wobbly legs. The world twisted and turned for a bit, but soon righted itself as he clung to his bed for balance. He reached for a particularly large and tattered jumper he'd become attached to and slipped it on. He put on some less smelly sweatpants, and for good measure, sprayed what he knew was called deodorant on himself, and washed his face. He looked far too tired, too weak, too disgusting, but he didn't have it in him to put so much effort in his appearance.

Instead he shuffled down the stairs to the communal room, a journey that took much longer than it should have, for his legs felt as though they would buckle under him if he went too quickly. By the time he reached his destination, he felt dead on his feet, but for the sake of whatever remaining pride he had left, he looked up at the avengers, matching each of their gazes.

***

A/N: Half term's given me so much time to write but just don't expect this in like two days. I'll try and update twice a week but I've got mocks coming up so it might drop to once a week??? Either way, I really enjoy writing this story and I plan on seeing it to the end! And to everyone reading this, remember to stay safe and don't feel that you have to read this if it's too upsetting xxx so much love for everyone 💗💗

Also Loki getting a series makes me happy :) loads of people were like "what about a movie" but technically by getting a series we get to see more Loki sooooo I'm not complaining!