Hidden Troubles

10 | All Is Lost

Then all is blackness, all is lost, and he is lying in the midst of the jeering mass of Chitauri, and the Other raises his blade, dripping with Loki's blood, ready to carve another twisting scar into his chest, but Loki will not yield—

 —will not yield— 

—will not yield—

It does not matter, for he has no choice, in the end.

Then Loki is walking, walking across Midgard, and there are screams and fire and he does not want to be here, wants to go home but he cannot—

—there is blue in his mind and sickly power in his hands and he cannot stop himself—

Why does Thor not understand?

Does Thor think him capable of this?

Thor is in the glass cage, the cage built for the monster, and Loki is so angry because Thor cannot see that Loki is sick and that the Tesseract has his mind within her poisonous grasp and that Thanos is making him dance like a marionette and so Loki lets the cage fall— fall into blackness like when he fell from the Bifrost, because Thor believes that Loki does this of his own free will, that Loki is truly a monster—

(Thor is right)

He is hunched in an alley and there is garbage strewn about and it is so hot so hot and then there are footsteps and he turns and Thanos is there before him, smiling, and he reaches out and touches Loki and then pain 

pain 

PAIN

You will long for something as sweet—

Loki shot upwards, a scream fresh on his lips, breathing hard and raggedly as though the fiends of Helheim were hot on his heels. There was chilled sweat on his forehead and a frantic quiver in his limbs; several minutes passed before the panic drained from his mind and he could think clearly again.

There was a pressure in Loki's throat, and a wetness in his eyes; Loki hunched over and covered his face with his hands, cursing himself for his weakness. All the emotions that had torn through his soul during the past days — the past years — converged into a howling mass that demanded to be released. The anger, the shame, the loneliness, the pain, the brokenness, the heartbreak, the depression, the sudden hope — it was far too much to be contained, and Loki abandoned all efforts at bottling the feelings, letting them pour from him in tears that shook his body, sliding to the floor and sobbing uncontrollably into his knees.

Why was he like this? Why could he not just be perfect?

Crying was beneficial for the body, some said; as Loki calmed, wiping his eyes and breathing a little more evenly, he realized that, in a strange way, he did feel a little better. The pain was still there, but it was not as sharp or burning as before, only a muffled ache now.

The sky was considerably lighter, he noticed— had he really wept for that long? For a moment, Loki was ashamed, wondering what Thor would think of such a display. But Thor was not here— not Thor, not Odin, not Frigga, not anyone from Asgard. There was no one here to see (perhaps Heimdall but what would he tell the AllFather that he didn't already know; his adopted not-son was a weakling?)— Loki could do anything, whatever he wanted to do, and none would see him. None would judge, or criticize, or mock.

If he wanted to cry, then there was no reason to stop himself.

And so he did.

***

Unknown to the former prince, a certain red-head had paused outside his door. She was often used to being awake so early, her mind and racing thoughts denying her some blissful sleep. She'd been wandering through the tower, up and down each floor, hoping to induce some exhaustion so that she may soon get some sleep. But the golden dawn that rose up to greet her proved her wrong. She'd just reached Loki's floor when she'd heard the scream, and a couple of moment later the heart-breaking sobs that followed. Tony hadn't made Loki's walls sound proof as a caution, but they'd never considered that the god might have his own issues. That he might actually be suffering. She listened by the door as the sobs quietened with occasional noises, and then faded completely before leaving for the kitchen. She hadn't even noticed an hour had passed.

***

Loki forced himself into the kitchen at midday, settling on one of the stools by the counter. The Avengers new motto of "constant vigilance" meant that Stark or Banner would randomly barge into his room and interrupt his peaceful solitude to sneakily check up on him, and Loki was tired of the incessant disturbances. He placed his arms on the counter and his head on top, staring at the fruit bowl, a particularly red apple capturing his gaze. He love apples— he used to love apples—or did he still love them? Did he even remember what an apple tasted like? It had been so long...

Tears pricked his eyes and suddenly more than anything he wanted some familiar comfort. He longed for a warm, strong embrace— his mother, his brother— his brother Thor, to embrace him and whisper sweet nothings that soothed his emotions like warm milk, he wanted Thor—

"Morning, Loki."

Loki's head snapped up, towards the direction of the voice. Steve Rogers walked into the kitchen in his pyjamas, giving Loki a welcoming smile.

"Do you want anything to eat?"

Loki shook his head. He didn't trust himself to speak. He didn't want to say "yes" because he so wanted to eat but he couldn't, he mustn't—

"Alright then. Let me know if you do. I'll just be making some pancakes."

Loki watched the Captain work, whipping up the mixture with the addition of just a few simple ingredients. Surely they could not be edible in such a state? But then he watched as the captain carefully poured some onto a heated pan, and the mixture thickened and browned into something that actually looked nice.

Steve caught the god staring at the food.

"You sure you don't want some?"

Loki shook his head again. He didn't want food. He wanted ... he wanted home. He wanted Thor.

"Do you—"

"Yes?"

"It is of no matter. I'm sorry for disturbing you, Captain." Loki made to get off the stool, careful to not end up collapsing in a heap on the tiled floor.

"You can ask, Loki." Steve said gently.

Hesitancy and fear greeted Steve when he looked in the pale man's eyes. "Do you know when Thor will return?" His voice cracked as he spoke his br— not brother's name, and he prayed to Yggdrasil that Steve hadn't noticed.

The Captain's face softened. "I'm not entirely sure. But I could ask Tony and get back to you? I'm sure he'll be back soon."

"There is no need to trouble yourself, Captain." And with that, Loki left, and Steve was left staring at the thin frame of the once seemingly unbreakable god, and he had some inexplicable urge to bring him back and give him a hug.