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Some days, Loki wasn’t certain that all of him had come back.
Some days, he was nearly certain he wasn’t back at all. Was certain that he was still dead, and everything around him was just an elaborate games of shadows. He dug his nails into his palms to prove that he was flesh and blood, but even with that some part of him doubted. The world felt strange, and he was ill at ease.
It didn’t help that Thor wasn’t at his best, either.
Thanos had left scars on his brother. Not on his skin, but there were scars nonetheless: he carried fear with him in a way he never had before, and the knowledge of loss. He hovered around Loki, around Heimdall, as though fearful of what might happen if he took his eyes off them. All Loki had done was die; Thor had had to live with everything else.
Which was the prime reason Loki was trying not to let Thor see how fine were the threads holding him together. Thor would most certainly not approve, but Thor also didn’t believe in his own limits. Besides, it wasn’t as though there was much he could actually do. There was no prescribed cure for you were dead, and now you aren’t, and everything feels just a little bit wrong, and you haven’t slept a full night through in the last month, and you can’t wear any of your old clothes because they all have high collars that start to feel like hands sometimes.
No. As far as Thor needed to know, Loki was fine. And he was. Or at least…fine enough. Managing. It could be worse. He’d been worse. (You’ve been dead.)
The point was that this was all…manageable. Nothing he couldn’t handle.
(Waking up in the wreckage of his room for the third time in four days, with no memory of the dream that had made him lash out at his own furniture, Loki allowed to himself that perhaps that was an optimistic assessment.)
Loki was no stranger to long periods of sleep deprivation.
As a youth, insomnia had dogged his heels more often than not: half the time because he couldn’t slow his racing thoughts enough to rest, and the other half because he didn’t want to - it just felt like a waste. There were so many other and more interesting things to do than sleep.
Later on…there were other reasons to avoid closing his eyes.
He knew how to keep himself going: light, short, rests, never deep enough to dream, never allowing himself to get too comfortable. He imagined sleep like a stalking animal, prowling after him as he fought to stay just ahead of its teeth.
Its teeth, when they caught him, were sharp like the splinters of his bed currently in his palms.
Valkyrie walked in without knocking while he was still reassembling the bedframe. He could almost hear her raised eyebrows. “Good night?”
“No,” Loki said flatly. There was a dull headache knocking at the front of his skull. He worked another splinter free of his skin. “Not exactly.”
“You’re in a mood.”
“Unless you had something useful to say, you can go,” Loki said pointedly. She didn’t leave.
“Maybe you should invest in less breakable furniture,” she said. “Fewer splinters.”
Loki stopped trying to draw one out of the base of his thumb and turned around. “What do you want?”
“I don’t want anything. Just stopping by. Checking in.”
“Because we’re such good friends,” Loki said. He could hear the bitterness in his own voice, and resented himself for letting it be there.
“I’m not fundamentally opposed.” She tapped her fingers against her leg and nodded at the bed. “So what’d it do to you?”
“Annoyed me,” Loki said, and looked at her through his eyelashes. “What do you actually want?”
“I told you,” she said, flatter. “I don’t want anything. You’re a shit-heel, but you’re one of my shit-heels. Like I said. I’m just visiting.” Loki just kept staring at her, and she made an exasperated noise. “Fine. Thor told me to check on you.”
Loki stared. “He what?”
“Thor told me to check on you,” Valkyrie repeated with exaggerated slowness. “I don’t think I was supposed to tell you that, but…whatever. I shouldn’t’ve agreed anyway.”
“Why wouldn’t he ask me himself?” Loki asked, faint anger prickling down his spine. Valkyrie shrugged.
“I think he assumed you’d just lie.” Loki inhaled sharply and his jaw tightened, but Valkyrie raised her eyebrows. “Is he wrong?”
“Why would I be any less likely to lie to you,” Loki said.
“That part, I have no idea,” Valkyrie said. “I think we can both agree I’m not much of a confidant.” She studied him. “I’m also not blind.”
“Presumably not,” Loki said, snippily. She didn’t even acknowledge it.
“You’re wearing a little thin.” Valkyrie eyed him. “Were you awake when you broke the bed?” Loki clenched his teeth and said nothing. Her expression softened a little. “I’m just guessing. Being dead fucks you up.”
“You’d know, would you,” Loki said flatly.
“Not personally. I feel like I can guess.” She cracked her neck. “Near death is bad enough.”
“What’s your point,” Loki said.
“Just saying,” she said. “You have a brother who’d fall all over himself to help if you said something to him. You know. Talked to each other. For once.” She gestured at his hands. “Might end up having to replace fewer pieces of furniture.”
“Thor doesn’t need,” Loki started to say, and Valkyrie snorted loudly.
“This is selflessness, is it?”
“I never said it was selfless,” Loki said, too loudly.
“Good,” she said, “because it’d be stupid to pretend like you’re doing anything other than avoiding Thor because you don’t know how to talk to him.”
Loki felt himself flush. “Because you are such a brilliant communicator,” he snapped.
“Obviously not,” she said evenly. “But we’re not talking about me, are we?” She paused. “So I’ll tell Thor you’re doing just fabulously, right?”
“Tell Thor whatever you want,” Loki said irritably. “And get out of my room.”
What Valkyrie had said - nagged at him. What she’d said about Thor. She was wrong, of course: he knew how to talk to Thor. He’d been doing it for his entire life. It was just that - about this, there was nothing to say.
Or no point in saying it.
It wasn’t that he was afraid. Or even avoiding Thor. He wasn’t. He spent plenty of time around Thor - most of it, given that Thor was one of the only people on this planet who was inclined to speak with him at all.
(The witchling was all right. But she was also an Avenger, which meant she was more often than not surrounded by people who eyed him like he was going to make another go at conquering Midgard.)
So Valkyrie was wrong about that, and she was wrong about him. He was managing (he wasn’t). It was getting better (it wasn’t).
It was mostly out of spite - to prove Valkyrie wrong - that he sidled up to Thor and asked him, “how are you, brother?”
Thor gave him such a startled look it was almost comical. Or would have been, if it weren’t for the strained smile that followed. “Should I wonder why you are asking?”
That stung. “It’s not so strange a question, is it?”
“Not exactly a typical one, either.” Thor shrugged before Loki could examine that too closely. “I’m well. Busy.”
You look tired, Loki wanted to say. But that would be inviting similar commentary. And if Thor didn’t want to admit that he was feeling the strain…Loki wasn’t certain it would be wise to bring attention to it.
The moment he thought that, though…
“You look tired,” he said. Thor gave him another one of those startled looks, like he couldn’t believe Loki had said something. Loki smiled crookedly at him. “Burning the candle at both ends?”
“It’s nothing unmanageable,” Thor said stoutly.
“You’d probably say the same if you were trying to hold a mountain on your shoulders,” Loki said. “You should be more careful with yourself.”
Thor’s expression flickered. “That’s a fine thing for you to say.”
Loki fell still. “Pardon?”
Thor pressed his lips together, and then shook his head. “Nothing.”
No, Loki wanted to say. What, what were you going to say, but he didn’t actually want Thor to say it. There were too many wrong ways for that conversation to go, and he could feel himself vibrating, deep inside, too close to a dangerous edge.
He was afraid of what he might say if Thor drew too close to the truth Loki didn’t want him to know. I am not whole. He was afraid of what he would do, if Thor probed that boundary.
He was a monster and a fool. Loki was not certain which was worse.
Thor was screaming. Screaming, as the Power Stone glowed and Thanos’s fingers clamped down and it was laughable, laughable that Loki had ever thought he could watch Thor suffer. “Stop,” he gasped out. “Stop. I’ll give you what you want.”
“Of course you will,” Thanos said. “You were always going to.”
The Power Stone glowed brighter. His fingers tightened. “Wait,” Loki said. “Wait, I said I would-”
“I heard you,” Thanos said. He still didn’t let go. Loki pulled the Tesseract forth, desperately.
“Take it,” he said, almost pleading. “Take it, let him go-”
With one hand, Thanos reached out and took the Tesseract. With the other–
The crunch of Thor’s skull giving way was never going to stop echoing in Loki’s ears. He started screaming, and didn’t stop until Thanos choked the life out of his lungs.
Almost with his waking breath Loki was on his feet. His room was intact but his soul felt splintered, and he barely felt himself moving, his blood roaring in his ears, needing to know, needing to see-
He unlocked Thor’s door with a clumsy touch of magic and threw himself through to see Thor lying - dead - sleeping on his bed. Sleeping. Only sleeping.
Loki’s knees buckled. His exhale came out as a sob and he struggled to pull in a breath, his heart still racing, panic still thrumming in his veins. It’d felt so real. He could still see it, hear it. His stomach lurched into his throat and he swallowed back bile.
“Loki?”
Thor’s voice filtered in, sounding blurry from sleep. Loki choked on air.
“I’m - sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to - wake you. I was - I was just-” He didn’t have a lie ready. Didn’t know what he wanted to say, his thoughts wouldn’t stick together right.
“What’s the matter?” Thor’s voice sounded clearer. Worried. No, scared, and he was kneeling down, scanning Loki’s face with wide eyes. “Did something happen? Are you - are you hurt?”
“No,” Loki said. “I’m not - I’m not.” He gasped in a breath and reached out to grab onto Thor - his arms, his shoulders, somewhere - only to flinch back. Afraid if he tried, his hand would go through. One of them was a ghost, or maybe they both were, and his throat was tightening like he was dying all over again.
None of this is real, he thought wildly. Just - just shadows thrown up in the last seconds of life. He choked, fighting for air.
“Loki,” Thor said. “What is it, what’s wrong - please, speak to me–”
“I saw you die,” he said, somehow, through the fist around his throat. “You were - he…”
Thor made a strange noise. “No,” he said. “No. I didn’t…it was a dream, Loki. A dream. That’s all.”
“I can’t,” Loki said, his voice growing thinner and thinner. “I can’t, I can’t breathe–”
“Loki,” Thor said, and his voice suddenly sounded more certain. “You can. You’re…it’s all right. You’re safe. Listen to me. You’re safe.”
Safe. He barely remembered what that felt like. He had remembered, for a short while, but then it had all been torn away again.
“Listen,” Thor said, and his hands gripped Loki’s arms. “You’re all right. I’m all right. I’m here.” His voice wobbled, briefly, then steadied. “I’m here.”
Thor screaming. Bone giving way. I’m here. Loki heard himself sob, a wrenching, ugly, sound.
“Come with me,” Thor said, pulling Loki to his feet - or upwards, anyway, though Loki’s legs didn’t seem to be working right. “Let’s just…”
He should be helping. He should be doing…something. But all he could do was let Thor push and pull him like a ragdoll until they were both on Thor’s bed, Thor holding him, arms a solid circle keeping Loki tight against his chest with his head on Thor’s shoulder. Loki could feel Thor trembling slightly, the slight wet sound to his breathing.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered.
“Don’t,” Thor said, low and fierce. “Don’t…Loki. Just…”
Loki slumped, turning his face like he could hide in Thor. Like he could still believe, as he had once, that nothing could touch him here.
The fear, the panic, was ebbing out of him, leaving exhaustion in its wake. “I’m so tired,” he mumbled.
“You can sleep here.”
“I’ll hurt you,” Loki said. “When I sleep, my magic…I can’t control it.”
“I’ll take that risk,” Thor said after a moment. “I don’t want you to leave.”
Loki shuddered, letting out a low, shaky, exhale. I don’t want to hurt you. He shouldn’t. It wasn’t safe. He wasn’t safe. But now that he was here…he didn’t think he could make himself leave. He hadn’t known how much he’d needed this until now.
Why did he always end up running from what he needed most?
Loki woke up slowly. Both Thor and the furniture appeared to be intact.
He should get up. Pull himself together after the shameful display of the night before.
“You’re awake?” Thor said. Loki could feel the vibration of his voice in his chest where Loki was curled up half on top of him.
“Apparently,” he said. He lifted his head a fraction and grimaced at the light streaming in through the window. “What time is it?”
“Late morning,” Thor said. Loki squeezed his eyes closed and moved to get up.
Thor didn’t budge, his arm around Loki immovable. He stopped.
“It’s late,” Loki said.
“Do you have something pressing you need to do?”
He didn’t. He hadn’t had much pressing to do since coming back to life. “Are you just going to lie in bed all day?”
“I was thinking about it.” Loki blinked, and Thor sighed out. “I’ve been lying here for almost an hour listening to you breathe. I’m not sure I’m ready to stop yet.”
Something snagged in Loki’s chest. He thought he should probably laugh, say something light, perhaps a little mocking. Nothing came to mind. “Oh,” he said.
“I feel better when I can see you,” Thor said. The sheer, naked, honesty of the words left Loki with the oddest feeling of panic. “I’ve tried to…not crowd you. But I don’t know how well it’s working.”
Loki closed his eyes, like that would make it easier to speak. “It’s possible I keep too much distance.” He took a slow breath. “I don’t want…you shouldn’t take on my burdens.”
Thor let out a strange, helpless sounding laugh. “Is that…” His arm tightened fractionally. “I slept better with you here than I have since…since.”
“You did?” Loki said, taken aback.
“How could I not?” Thor huffed. “I haven’t wanted you to feel…as though I was hovering. I feared my fretting would only drive you away.”
“That…does sound about right.” Loki smiled weakly, though it slipped off his face after only a moment. He let his head drop back to Thor’s shoulder. “We aren’t…at our best, are we?”
“No,” Thor said quietly. “I suppose we are not.”
Loki could not quite eradicate that pang, the one that whispered this is your fault. He pushed it aside and swallowed hard. “At least we’re both alive,” he said, though he regretted it the moment he said it. His dream still too close behind him. Thor’s arm tightened almost painfully.
“Yes,” he said after a moment, a little hoarse. “At least there’s that.”
Loki let himself relax into Thor. He’d fought this for so hard, these last years, for fear of losing himself - what was left of himself. But here and now, it just felt more like being whole.