There were bound to be good days and bad days. That's what Thor's fellow Avengers kept telling him. Ups and downs were to be expected. His friends meant it as a comfort and perhaps the first few times it was. Then it became infuriating, largely because there hadn't yet been any "good days". After the fury, all Thor could feel was a weary sort of resignation. There was nothing to do but wait it out and cling to the hope that Loki would one day be himself again. Then came the day the platitude became utterly depressing, because that was the day Thor realized what he thought were the "bad days" were, in fact, the "good" ones.
The first few weeks after their transfer into the rebuilt Stark Tower, Loki was much the same as he'd been since waking up from the spell, namely a shadow of his former self. He didn't speak, was easily confused, and frightened of just about everything. After one disastrous encounter with Bruce Banner—one which ended with a hysterical Loki sobbing in Thor's arms—he and the rest of the team kept their distance from Loki, which meant keeping distance from Thor as well. Once a day, one or more of his comrades would check in to see how they fared but the rest of the time he and Loki were alone.
For Loki, as long as it was the two of them he wasn't well precisely, but he had no more occurrences of blind fear. Panic attacks, Thor learned they were called. According to the reading he'd done they were common after suffering mental trauma. He was glad to know there was a name and explanation for such things but dismayed that there was no real cure. It was something that could not be healed, only managed.
Given Loki's aversion to everyone, the burden of caring for his burns fell to Thor alone. He knew the procedure, and Banner was always quick to answer any questions he had, but as is so often the case, knowing was different from doing. Loki himself made the process far more challenging than it needed to be. He wasn't fond of any of it. Some days he hid, others he just refused to cooperate. It gave Thor no joy to drag his brother, at times quite literally kicking and screaming, to the bathing room to tend to his burns but there was nothing else to do. He understood Loki's dislike for it all, and shared it, but without his natural healing ability the wounds could become infected or otherwise not heal properly, so they needed daily attention. As it was, the wounds were ghastly, covering the greater part of both forearms and portions of his hands and chest. Stark had access to the best of medical supplies but even so, Loki would still be left with severe scarring. A terrible and permanent reminder of the damage done by Odin's insanity.
Apart from dealing with Loki's injuries, the days with him were unnatural in their quiet. He never spoke unless it was to say Thor's name. Thor took to speaking most of his thought aloud just to fill the silence, silence which was somehow worsened by how Loki wouldn't let Thor leave him alone. His brother who in times past would sojourn alone for months or even years at a time now couldn't bear to be separated from Thor for even a few minutes. Loki's mute and constant presence left Thor so unnerved some days he would stay awake long after his brother fell asleep just to enjoy being alone. For a few precious hours he wasn't faced with a constant reminder of just how diminished Loki had become.
As bad as the days could be however, the nights were often worse. Night terrors like the ones that tormented Loki as a child returned to plague him. Night after night Thor was awoken by his screaming brother. Their first week in the tower was a week of sleepless nights that each time ended with Loki refusing to let go of Thor's hand after he'd calmed down, let alone return to his own bed. Giving up on the notion of even attempting to sleep alone, Thor asked Stark to obtain a bed that could accommodate the two of them. Sleeping in the same bed didn't prevent the night terrors but being so close together meant Thor could render his brother assistance sooner, which shortened the episodes. Like the panic attacks though, they could not be cured and Thor began to despair that he might never again have a night's sleep without Loki's screaming ringing in his ears.
As the days wore on, Thor felt more and more hopeless. He knew that mere weeks were nothing compared to the length of an Aesir lifespan but even so, having been so brutally disabused of the notion that Loki might be better off without his old memories, Thor was desperate for a sign—any sign—of real recovery. Nearly a month to the day after the spell was broken, his wish was granted, and Thor discovered the "good days" he so yearned for had passed by without his notice.
Thor almost missed the first sign of change because it was almost no different to what came before. Yet another night—he'd realize later it was actually morning—where Loki's screaming jolted him awake. As he had so many nights before, Thor reached for his brother to pull him close and restrain him if need be. This time though, Loki scrambled away and out of reach. He tumbled off the bed, skeletal arms and legs flailing in an uncoordinated crab walk until he reached the nearest corner. Fully alert now, Thor noticed Loki's expression was something new. He was disoriented but unlike after his night terrors, entirely awake. His eyes took frantic leaps from one spot in the room to another in a desperate search for something.
"Loki?" Thor called out warily.
Loki flinched at the sound of his name, one arm flying up to shield himself. Then he froze and his wide eyes flicked over to Thor. He stared at him, uncomprehending, while Thor could do nothing but wait and listen to his pulse pounding in his ears. In between one beat and the next, another new expression flitted across Loki's face, one that almost looked like-
"Thor?"
–recognition.
Blinking and breathing rapidly, Loki panted, "Thor... what..."
Without thinking, Thor rushed forward to him. Impossibly, Loki's eyes widened more before he flinched back with such violence that his head left a dent where it struck the wall. His thin spidery fingers clawed at the wall for some kind of escape. Seeing his panic, Thor halted and backed away again.
"Forgive me, brother," he said, forcing himself to speak with an even voice. "I didn't mean to frighten you."
"Frighten..." Loki repeated, the word coming slow off his tongue as if it was foreign to him. His eyebrows furrowing, his eyes darted to and fro, looking but not seeing. "Why would you frighten... why would I..."
His bewildered eyes found Thor again and he stared, his mouth slightly agape but saying nothing.
"Brother?" Thor was bewildered himself. He started inching closer but even that slow pace was too much.
"Don't!" Loki exclaimed, throwing up his hands to ward him away.
"Don't what?"
Instead of answering, Loki stared at his hands as if they were not his own or had acted on the will of someone else.
"You were injured," Thor told him, taking a guess that it was the sight of the bandages confusing him.
"I... I don't..."
"You don't remember?"
"...I don't know."
"Know what?"
Loki looked back up at him, his gaze just as perplexed as before. All at once, the confusion cleared, which he announced with an anti-climactic, "Oh."
It was Thor's turn to be the puzzled one. "Brother, are you all right?"
But Loki's eyes had become distant again. With an absent gesture, reached up with one hand and brushed his fingertips over his cheek. "I... I need to..."
"What, Loki?" Thor asked, beyond anxious to do something to help. "What do you need?"
"Leave."
Thor shook his head. "We can't. We must stay here for your own protection."
"No," Loki said. "You leave."
After a month of Loki being his ever-present shadow, hearing him ask to be alone was a such a shock that at first, Thor was certain he misunderstood. He started to object, "Loki-"
"Please."
Every instinct told Thor not to listen. He wasn't naive enough to believe Loki was recovered. Doctor Strange warned that Loki would have lapses, perhaps for a long time. Leaving him alone could be harmful, dangerous even. He wanted to refuse but seeing his brother who had been robbed of so much asking for just this one thing, he couldn't.
"If that is your wish," he said at length.
Loki nodded vacantly. "It is."
So Thor did as he was asked. Over the next several days, he understood with painful clarity how mistaken was in thinking the "good days" had not arrived. It was a mystery each day which brother he would wake up to. Some days it was as if Loki had never come back to himself at all, reverting to the silent childlike companion he was before. The days he was aware, he wanted nothing but solitude and made his wishes known with threats and screaming. He was yet too frail to be intimidating but he frightened Thor all the same. Each time Loki chased him out, Thor saw conflicting feelings in his eyes, as if he was as scared of Thor listening and leaving as he was of him staying. It was too much like the madness he remembered from their fight on the bifrost and again above New York. Imagining what might be going on inside Loki's troubled mind left Thor in a perpetual state of worry, all the more so because he knew his brother was alone with his thoughts, not allowing Thor or anyone else to help keep the shadows at bay. Even JARVIS' ongoing monitoring of Loki while they were apart couldn't quell Thor's nerves.
Those days where Loki wouldn't allow him near were in every sense "bad days". The change in Loki's condition that Thor had so longed for left him feeling more useless than ever. With so much free time on his hands, he took to researching the effects of mental trauma and mind-control but he could only read for so long before images of Loki suffering each and every one of those effects filled his mind. Leisure reading or watching television held no appeal either because he could never set aside his concern for his brother long enough to become caught up in the story. Always a man of action, Thor yearned to do something for Loki but he didn't know what. With Loki shutting him out half the time and incapable of speaking up for himself the other half, there was no way to know what he needed. There was no way to know what would help his recovery and what would set him back. All Thor could do was wait for another sign that something was changing. The wait was torture.
~~~|~~~
Noise jolted Thor from sleep. He was already up and several steps away from his bed when it dawned on him. The noise that roused him, it wasn't a scream like so many nights before, but the crash of something breaking.
Heart pounding hard behind his ribs, Thor quickened his pace to Loki's room. If it wasn't a night terror that had his brother up at this time of night then it was something else, something different. Different might be good thing but the lump of anxiety trying to lodge in his throat made him doubt it. So did the cry of anguish that came from his brother's quarters.
The room itself was dark but not so much that Thor couldn't see the bed was empty. What little light there was came from the partly open door of the bathing room, the site of their many battles over the dressing of Loki's wounds. From the other side of the door came the sound of muffled cries. Thor pushed the door open fully and froze at what he saw.
The mirror that occupied one full wall was shattered, its remains littering the floor where Loki sat surrounded by the shards. He wore no shirt, only a pair of loose trousers. Long scratches ran the length of his upper arms, some deep enough to bleed. What stopped Thor dead where he stood though, was that Loki was blue. Jötun blue.
Never before had he seen Loki's full Jötun form. He'd tried to imagine it after seeing the in-between state that removing the spell left him in but this was so different from what he saw then and imagined after. Thor wanted a moment to just take it in but he couldn't take it when there was something so clearly wrong.
Loki hadn't noticed his presence. He didn't move from where he sat on the floor with his knees drawn up in front of him and his hands fisted in his unkempt hair. He rocked back and forth, frantic murmurs spilling from his mouth. Thor was struck dumb by the display until Loki pulled his hands from his hair and looked at them. Another keen ripped from his throat and startled Thor out of his stupor.
"Loki," he said quietly, taking a cautious step forward.
Loki's eyes didn't leave his hands. "I can't do it. I can't."
"Can't what, brother?"
"I can't change back!" he cried, looking up for the first time. Seeing Thor, his crimson eyes widened in alarm. He scrabbled backwards, heedless of the broken glass all around him. "No, don't! Stay away!"
Thor held his hands up but stayed where he was. "Loki, there's nothing to fear."
"No, you'll kill me!"
The accusation shook him down to his core, leaving him speechless again. Loki mistook his shock for something else and started to beg.
"I tried to change back," he insisted. "I'm not this, I swear. I'll do it. Just don't kill me, please!"
"I won't," Thor told him urgently. "I would never."
"You would. You said you would."
"When?" he blurted out, regretting it right away. He could think of a handful of times he'd said just such a thing.
"In the weapons vault. You vowed to hunt the monsters down and slay them all."
At first Thor thought Loki had to be mistaken. Perhaps he remembered something from one of his night terrors and confused it for a real event. Then the memory came to him. They were but children, with Odin escorting them by the hand through the vault. He told them of the Casket's history and Asgard's victory over Jötunheim. And he listened with a smile while his eldest son swore to kill all the monstrous frost giants. The All-Father made a cursory attempt to curb his youthful battle lust but did absolutely nothing to correct his feelings about the 'monsters'. Thor had all but forgotten it ever happened. Loki, it would seem, hadn't.
"I'm not this," Loki said again. Agitated by Thor's continued silence he began scratching his arms. "I'm not this."
Thor realized with alarm that Loki was scraping at the raised Jötun markings on his arms as though he could gouge them from his flesh with his own fingers.
"Loki, don't," Thor urged.
With two quick steps, he closed the distance between them and dropped to his knees. He stilled Loki's hands by catching them with his own but Loki struggled and fought, twisting his bony wrists every which way to break loose. His chest rose and fell with sharp shallow breaths that Thor recognized as the beginning of a panic attack.
"Brother, please be calm."
Nothing changed. Loki kept striving to break free, his chest heaving with ever faster breaths. Resorting to the method he used in the wake of the night terrors, Thor used his strength to pull Loki closer, wincing at the sound of broken glass grinding beneath them. He spun Loki around without letting go of his hands so that Loki's arms were crossed over his own chest and Thor held his wrists in place beside his ribs.
Far from being calmed, Loki fought even harder to free himself and for a horrifying moment Thor thought he made a terrible mistake. Feeling Loki's frenetic pulse beneath his fingers and hearing his breaths become so shallow they were little more than gasps terrified him but he couldn't let go, not while Loki was deep in the throes of such senseless terror. He held on, murmuring reassurances in Loki's ear and hoping they would be heard. Each moment that passed sent fresh pangs of misery lancing through Thor's heart. After all he suffered, Loki deserved some peace, not more torment, but there seemed to be no end in sight. Moments like this, where it was plain to see how severe the damage was, left Thor struggling to believe they would ever see such an end.
Loki's energy waned quickly, his body too weak to sustain such intense activity for long. Even before his strength ebbed, his efforts felt pitifully feeble to Thor. Just a few months prior Loki alone killed numerous dark elves with just his bare hands and a dagger. Thor couldn't have hoped to restrain that Loki with such a simple hold and now it presented no challenge at all. It may as well have been a child in his arms. The contrast between the brother he remembered and the one in front of him now was so painful to consider that Thor had to ruthlessly shove the thoughts out of his mind before they dragged him any deeper into despair. If he succumbed to hopelessness, there would be no one to keep Loki from doing the same.
An agonizing few minutes passed before Loki's breathing deepened and his pulse slowed. Only after he went slack in Thor's arms did Thor let him go. Loki pulled away from him so quickly that for a split-second it seemed as if he had been feigning his weakness. A moment later it was obvious the move burned up his last remaining bit of energy as he slumped sideways against the side of the bathtub, arms and legs trembling with fatigue. They were facing each other but he didn't, or maybe couldn't, raise his head. Thor didn't move from where he crouched in the center of the room.
"What is this?" Loki asked, still panting a little. His voice trembled as much as the rest of him. "I can't change back."
"You were put under a spell that twisted your shape-shifting against you. The sorcerer who lifted the the spell told me at times you might lose control over it."
"But why this... this... thing?" The disgust was so thick in Loki's voice it was a wonder he didn't choke.
"You are no thing, brother," Thor told him.
Loki laughed, a high and breathy sound edging on hysterical that sent nervous shivers down Thor's spine. He lifted his head but wouldn't meet Thor's eyes. "Am I not? Is this not the face of the monsters you swore to kill?"
"Loki-"
"They had to die," he declared. "I had to kill them. It was the only way."
His stillness unnerved Thor as much as his panicked thrashing had. The only movement anywhere on Loki's body was the twitching of his fingers, which Thor watched with a careful eye. The last time he heard Loki speak about frost giants is such a way he tried to end his own life and the floor was littered with shards of mirror big enough to use for such a purpose. Ordinarily blood loss alone wouldn't be fatal but Loki was still so fragile it could very well push his body beyond its limits.
"The only way to what?" Thor prompted in the hope he might distract Loki from taking any drastic action if he kept him talking.
Loki laughed again but his eyes had begun to well tears. With one hand he absently rubbed at the Jötun lines on his chest. He was still laughing as he said, "To kill the monster in me. If the frost giants were no more then I couldn't be anything but..."
Tears streamed from his eyes as he trailed off into even more manic laughter. Thor tensed, ready to act if Loki tried something desperate. "Anything but what, Loki? You couldn't be anything but."
"...Odin's son."
In the time it took Thor to blink, Loki's laughter dissolved into sobbing. He dug his nails into his markings, ragged nails drawing blood. Wary of another volatile reaction, Thor slowly eased forward and wrapped his hand around Loki's to draw it away from his chest. Though he made no sudden moves, the action caught his brother by surprise anyway. Loki's head jerked back and his weeping abruptly stopped as he looked Thor in the eye at long last. He tried to pull his hand from Thor's grasp but when his gaze travelled down to his own bloody finger tips, he stopped resisting and stared as if he himself hadn't noticed what he was doing. As the realization set in, the sobbing returned full force.
"He did this, didn't he?" Loki strangled out between shuddering breaths.
Thor couldn't bring himself to answer right away. The brief periods where Loki was lucid, they never spoke to each other and the rest of the time, he didn't have the understanding for Thor to explain. He hoped, however cowardly, that Loki would remember what happened on his own. During his darkest moments, an even more craven hope lingered that Loki would never remember being under the spell at all and they'd both be spared having to face it. If he never remembered, they might never find themselves here, with that utterly broken look in Loki's eyes and Thor knowing it was partly his neglect that put it there. He left Asgard without a second thought, never once considering why Odin would let him go with so little argument. He followed his own selfish desires and damned Loki to this horror in the process, carrying on in blissful ignorance while his family crumbled to pieces. He owed it to Loki to do whatever it took to put those pieces back together.
"Yes, he did," Thor said.
Loki shook his head. "I can't live like this."
"Loki-"
"He took everything!" Loki wailed, tear-filled eyes staring unblinking into Thor's. "M-my mind, my body, I-I-I can't control..."
Anything else Loki tried to say was swallowed up by more weeping. Over and over he tried to compose himself and each time he failed. Another childhood memory surfaced in Thor's mind. Though still a young boy, Loki had grown old enough to feel embarrassed by his terrible dreams and the state they left him in upon waking. One particular night after Thor helped calm him from another episode, something happened with Loki that he had never seen before. All emotion on Loki's face disappeared as though it were shut up behind a door. His expression became a blank implacable mask, vacant and void. It wasn't many weeks later that Loki's nighttime episodes stopped and they were given separate chambers. Back then Thor believed that was the end of it but now he could remember a number of days where Loki wore that same carefully empty expression as they sat down to their morning meal. It struck Thor only now that the night terrors hadn't stopped. Ashamed of what he thought was a weakness, Loki did what he always did and hid it away.
Throughout their lives Thor saw that mask more and more until it became his natural expression. The little brother of his childhood, an open-hearted boy who let his feelings show plainly, grew distant and became guarded. In the rare moments where Loki let the mask fall, when he showed naked delight in learning a new element of seiðr or glee over the success of a trick, Thor saw the brother he remembered. Then the shutters would fall closed, having opened just long enough for Thor to wonder where that earnest little boy had gone. He tried to get to the bottom of it, pestering Loki for an explanation, but Loki always denied what Thor knew he saw. It confused and frustrated his younger self so much that he gave up on figuring out why his brother was that way. It was easier to just ignore.
By the time they reached manhood Loki had progressed from controlling what others saw of himself to manipulating other people directly. He did it so well that most never knew it was happening. Thor grew so used to his deception that he believed Loki incapable of ever being sincere. Yet his behaviour never seemed outright malevolent until his betrayal at the coronation, along with everything that followed. When viewed in the light of his treason it was easy to to see his manipulations as malicious, even as something evil. But perhaps it wasn't so simple. After all, as Thor recalled so well now it all began with a little boy not wanting anyone to know he was frightened. Perhaps Loki thought if he controlled not just himself but those around him, then no one would ever see his weaknesses. He'd never be vulnerable.
Only now he was. His powers were all but gone. His dreaded nightmares had returned. His shape-shifting wouldn't obey him. His own thoughts turned against him. And the blank mask he'd crafted since childhood to hide his emotions, the one that frustrated Thor to no end, had been ripped off by the spell. No matter how hard Loki tried, he couldn't get it back in place.
Thor's heart ached in his chest and tears stung his eyes at the sight of Loki so broken down. He reached out with his free hand and cupped the back of Loki's neck, leaning forward until their foreheads were touching.
"I'm here, brother," he murmured. "I'm here. You haven't lost everything."
He felt Loki shake his head. "I'm nothing," Loki said, his voice hollow with despair.
"You're wrong," Thor told him. "It will not always be this way. With time your mind will clear and your powers will return."
"You can't know that."
"I do know, brother. I do," Thor avowed, though he was uncertain where the conviction came from. Perhaps he sensed the will of the Norns, or perhaps it was blind faith and his own desperate need to believe their suffering was near an end. Whatever it was, Thor had faith in it, and he needed Loki to have the same faith. He leaned back to better look his brother in the eye. "I know it because you are still here. You are a survivor, always. And this time you won't have to survive alone. I'll not abandon you again. I swear by my soul and that of our mother, never again, Loki."
A few shaky breaths from Loki provided the only break in the silence between them. Loki held Thor's gaze until something made his eyebrows draw together. His eyes drifted to the side like he was trying to recall something.
"Mother," he muttered. "She said... what did you do?"
"What do you mean?" Thor asked, lost by the disjointed question.
Loki's eyes came back to him. "To free me. What did you do?"
If there was any subject Thor wished to discuss less, it was that. For a moment all he could see was Odin's face, his eye wide and bright with madness, insanity twisting his features into a grotesque parody of the father Thor remembered. He heard Odin explaining what he'd done to Loki and why, each word more deranged than the last. He heard those words fall silent when Mjolnir found her target. The last and most enduring image Thor would have of the man who raised him was of his corpse. Odin's lifeless body, the blood pouring from his head was a sight forever burned on his brain. Thor would give anything to banish it from his mind forever.
But he couldn't. Not just because such things were impossible, but because it was Loki who asked. Loki who was swallowed up by a blind terror he couldn't control just moments before, and who now looked at Thor with a clarity of mind Thor hadn't seen since before he was freed from the spell. If the answer would give Loki even the slightest measure of peace, how could Thor deny him?
"I-I killed him."
For all of Thor's inner turmoil, his brother's reaction wasn't much of anything. He blinked, his head twitching back at the same time almost like a flinch. His jaw fell open but not far, and no words left his lips. He didn't seem surprised or angry or even relieved. He seemed more confused than anything and it left Thor with an uneasy feeling in his gut.
"There was no other way," Thor hastened to add, feeling compelled to defend himself despite the fact that Loki was showing no sign of judgement. "Mother's death drove him mad with grief. No one saw until it was too late. I wanted... I tried to reason with him but his mind was gone. He would have kept you imprisoned by the spell until you died. There was no other way."
The more Thor spoke, the more confused Loki appeared so he stilled his tongue. Thus far none of Loki's reactions were what he expected them to be and he feared he might interpret them wrong and say something to set off another panic attack. He had to wait for some sign from Loki to tell him what he needed to say.
"You... killed him," Loki said after an eternity of a pause. Thor nodded in silence, still not trusting himself to speak. His brother made him wait through another dreadful pause before saying, "For me."
"I had to save my brother."
Rather than being assured, Loki seemed stricken by that. He looked away and closed his eyes but not before Thor caught a glimpse of anguish in them. "Your brother is gone, Thor. There's nothing left of him."
"Yes, there is," Thor returned mildly. "I've seen it. He is not gone, Loki. He is only lost."
There was a sharp intake of breath from his brother and a tremor rattled through his entire body. Thor braced himself for another bout of panic or weeping but none came. Instead with a faraway voice, Loki uttered, "She said the same thing."
Thor didn't know who 'she' was and was on the verge of asking when Loki looked up again. For the first time, Thor noticed rings of dark purple around his eyes. He still hadn't righted himself from his slumped pose against the bathtub. Loki was exhausted and in no condition for more conversation.
Setting curiosity aside, Thor said, "Come, let me clean you up so you can rest."
Loki allowed Thor to help him rise sit on the edge of the tub. Thor used a lukewarm washcloth to dab at the worst of Loki's scratches. None of them were very deep but the fact that they remained on his skin at all worried Thor. On a healthy Asgardian the way Loki scratched at himself wouldn't have left a mark, much less ones that required tending. He didn't want to think what might happen if Loki was seriously hurt before he regained his natural healing ability.
By the time Thor finished cleaning the scratches and making sure there were no slivers of mirror glass embedded elsewhere in Loki's flesh, Loki was on the verge of collapse. What little sleep he was getting was no match for the strain of such an exhausting ordeal. Twice Thor had to steady him when he started to sway, the second time only just catching him before his head struck the wall. When Thor was done acting as a healer, he stood and offered his hand to Loki, who hesitated before taking it. He hesitated again before rising, eyes fixed on where their hands met, Jötun blue against Aesir pink. His jaw clenched and throat worked so vigorously Thor thought he was about to be sick. Whatever troubled Loki passed without incident however. He let Thor pull him to his feet and together they picked their way through the mess of broken glass on the floor.
The ginger quality of Loki's movement didn't escape Thor's notice. His slowness wasn't just from being tired. Loki was in pain and it had to be severe if he couldn't hide it as he was wont to do, yet another thing for Thor to worry about. In the weeks since Doctor Strange lifted the spell, Loki showed little sign of improving. Almost no weight had been added to his gaunt frame and his body was as frail as the first day the spell was broken. Even in his Jötun skin, Thor could see where bruises were beginning to bloom on Loki's wrists where Thor restrained him. And of course the damage wasn't just limited to his body. Loki had more lucid periods now, it was true, but even they were marred by panic attacks and night terrors. What if he didn't have the strength or the will to carry on until he was well again? Thor made a promise to himself to remain watchful for signs his brother was giving up.
He settled Loki into his bed and turned to depart for his own but stopped when Loki called his name. He turned back again. "Yes, brother?"
Looking anywhere but at Thor, Loki said, "Would... would you..."
"Would I what?" he prompted when Loki didn't finish.
"Never mind," Loki replied. "It was nothing."
Thor wasn't in a hurry to believe him though. He wondered if he should press for an answer or let the matter be. While he pondered, Loki drew his limbs tight to his body and pulled the bed cover tight around himself. He did the same thing as a child after bad dreams. He also hated being alone after.
Without saying anything, Thor crossed the room to where an armchair was situated below a window and dragged it to the side of the bed. He glanced at Loki as he positioned the chair and caught a glimpse of his brother's expression, at once mortified and relieved. Thor averted his eyes and pretended not to notice, knowing all too well the surest way to get Loki to refuse help was to draw attention to his need for it. He had no doubt the only reason Loki let him do what he had done earlier that night was because he was too distraught to think of pushing him away. He didn't want to allow Loki an opening to do it now, so he sat down with nothing more than a, "Good night," and waited for him to fall asleep.
~~~|~~~
Something nudged at Thor's legs and he groaned. Why did it always seem there was something waking him up before he was ready to rise? If it wasn't a nightmare, it was someone poking him or a crick in his neck from sleeping in... why was he sleeping in a chair?
He opened his eyes and found himself staring up at a ceiling that was familiar but wasn't the one from his sleeping quarters. Thor blinked a few times and lifted his head from the back of the chair to see Loki was awake as well. What he noticed first though, with no small amount of relief was that he was back to his usual pale skin. Loki's other form didn't bother Thor but the fact that it distressed Loki so severely did. That would be one less obstacle to clear for today.
What Thor noticed second was Loki was smiling. Thor smiled back but it was cut short by a yawn. "I suppose it is too much to ask for a full night's sleep, is it?"
Still drowsy, it took a moment for him to notice Loki made no reply. Thor rubbed his eyes and looked at him. Loki stared back, eyebrows furrowed and lips forming a frown.
"What is it, what's wrong?" Thor asked with a sinking feeling in his stomach.
Loki still said nothing, just kept staring at Thor as if he were a puzzle to be solved. Exactly as he had back when... oh.
Thor sighed. It took a mighty effort to keep his voice level and not betray his disappointment when he said, "You're gone again, aren't you?"
No answer came, which was all the answer Thor needed. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. It won't be forever, he told himself. He will recover, he just needs time. Time and patience, and the promise you made not to give up on him. Thor was no oath-breaker. He vowed to help see Loki through this and he would, whether Loki was cognizant enough to appreciate the efforts or not.
Thor allowed himself a moment to wallow in disappointment before setting it aside and opening his eyes again. Loki was still looking at him expectantly. Thor got to his feet and held out his hands. "Come, let us see what there is to eat."
Whether or not Loki understood the words, Thor couldn't tell, but he did understand the gesture. He slid to the edge of the bed, put his feet on the floor, and took Thor's hand. He wobbled a bit as he rose but managed to right himself with only a little help. He smiled at Thor again once he was steady and Thor found it wasn't hard to return it. Loki was still in there. Maybe not the exact person he remembered but still his brother all the same.
Time and patience. To restore his brother, it really wasn't too much to ask.