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I remember a shadow. Living in the shade of your greatness.
Thor turns the words over in his mind.
He's been thinking about them a lot, lately.
He knows, now, years after it actually happened, that most of what Loki had said on that day wasn't really him. Well, it was him, but it wasn't - he was twisted and mangled in all the worst ways, somehow the worst of him brought to the surface with the strength of the Mind Stone. At least, that's what Loki told him, and he's not entirely sure if Loki knows exactly what happened either. He's learned to stop questioning magic, learned to stop looking for the how because usually, there's no answer.
He knows, bottom line, that almost nothing on that day was really Loki. It was the part of him that he kept locked away, hidden, and Thor knows how that feels. Everyone has that little voice, that little side of them that needs controlling, that's just as destructive as it is alluring.
When he remembers everything Loki said and did that day, he can see it. He can see how just slightly off everything was, how manically Loki spoke, how his words didn't sound as silver as they usually did, how his actions weren't as calculated as Loki's had always been (and he beats himself up for it, because Thor was - is - his brother, had known him for more than a thousand years, and should have seen it, should have seen the signs).
These words, though . . . those two lines had been spoken with a raw sort of anguish that rang true, and Thor can't stop thinking about the quiver in his voice that he just barely heard, the hurt that even the Mind Stone couldn't fake. The words had sounded truer, more real than any he had spoken that day.
They leave him with a lot to think about.
In true Odinson fashion, he hasn't spoken to Loki about any of these thoughts - not the question of whether or not those particular sentences were true (paired with the desperate hope that maybe they weren't), not the question of what Thor did to make him feel that way (maybe, deep down, Thor already knows), and definitely not the question of if he still feels that way (he's too scared of the answer). And because he hasn't asked, every possible answer Loki could give him float around in his head, clogging up his thoughts and making it difficult to focus on anything else, and it's really not a good time for him to be distracted.
They've only been on the Statesman for a week, and Thor is not having the best time figuring out the logistics of supporting a population on a ship for who knows how long (and he doesn't even want to think about what will happen when they do get to Midgard). He meets with Valkyrie almost every day - she's much older than he is, and while he did grow up learning how to rule Asgard, her experience is a lot more useful, considering their circumstances. Bruce, he tries to check in on every day. His relationship with the Hulk is still tenuous at best, and space is still very new to him.
And Loki.
He haunts the ship like a shadow, and Thor hardly ever sees him. After Loki had visited his room right after boarding the ship, he hadn't had a chance to get his brother alone (although he doesn't know what they'd talk about, even if he did).
His thoughts about Loki then mix with his thoughts about Loki now, and they are a pressing weight on top of his worries about the remnants of Asgard and his preparation for the landing on Midgard and what he's going to say. All of it leads to where he is now, alone at what is supposed to be night, according to the ship, staring at the stars in the darkness of space, shooting by. His makeshift throne looms behind him as he sits on the floor, knees to his chest (he isn't sure if he deserves that throne).
"Not sick of the stars yet?"
Think of the devil and he shall appear. A Midgardian statement Thor remembers taking offense to, the first time Tony had used it to refer to him.
Loki stands behind him, down below the stairs, likely having crept up on him silently, waiting for the right moment to jolt him out of his thoughts. Dramatic as always.
"No," Thor replies, turning to glance backwards at Loki's form before returning his attention to the glass. "But I am sick of this ship."
"So am I," Loki murmurs, and Thor wonders if he's been here before - he'd spent weeks on Sakaar before Thor arrived, it's not exactly a stretch. The thought disappears as he hears Loki shift behind him - no longer putting in the effort to be silent, the bastard - and Thor thinks for a second that he's going to leave again, wants to quickly turn around and grab the edge of his cape-
But to his surprise, Loki doesn't, instead walks up the stairs and comes closer to Thor - although nowhere near how close they would have sat as kids, shoulder to shoulder, easily comfortable with each other (what if that's a lie too, just like Thor's illusion of a perfect childhood?) - and stands next to him. "Having nightmares?"
It was hard to dream when you couldn't sleep. "No, just . . . thinking."
Their conversation is teetering on the edge between casual conversation and something more . . . personal. The distance between them doesn't allow for that balance to tip, they're walking the line, always maintaining that delicate balance of keeping each other at an arm's length, but never any further.
Thor wonders if things will ever change between them. If there will ever be a day where Thor can wholeheartedly confide in his brother, secure in the knowledge that Loki is there for him and always will be. If they'll ever go back to the days of their youth, where there was nothing between them (nothing that Thor could see, but something that Loki could).
Maybe they will, someday, but that day is not today. Today, the distance between them is palpable, just like it was their first encounter on the Statesman, as if Thor could cut the distance between them with a knife (would it really be that easy to cut Loki out of his life, now?)
(He doesn't want to do that. He doesn't ever want to let Loki go, now that they are finally here, together.)
(If he lets things stay as they are, the distance between them will do nothing but widen until they drift apart for good.)
(Thor wants to close that gap.)
Talking has never been their forte. It's always been actions.
Loki smiling, telling him that of course he's coming with Thor, as if he had never thought anything otherwise. Each of them grasping onto an end of Gungnir, Thor pleading with Loki to just hold on. Thor travelling across the universe to beg Loki to come home. Loki dying in Thor’s arms after saving his life (I didn’t do it for him). Loki coming back, smile on his face, catching the bottlecap Thor throws at him-
I'm here.
Thor stands up and does something he should have done back when Loki had smiled at him across the bedroom.
He reaches forward and grabs Loki in a hug, wrapping his arms around his back and squeezing. Loki remains shock-still for a couple seconds (how long has it been since they’ve hugged, really?) before slowly, hesitantly, melting into the hug. He doesn’t surround Thor in it, as Thor’s doing to Loki, but he gingerly lays his arms on Thor’s back, and maybe Thor’s imagining it, but he can feel Loki, maybe, squeezing back.
One last deep breath, and Thor steps back.
There’s that distance again.
(But maybe it’s not so wide anymore.)