Chapter Text
"Oh dear," is the first thing Loki hears as he comes to his senses. He blinks open his eyes, only to come face to face with a blonde man leaning over him with a worried expression.
"Are you alright, my dear? That looked quite painful."
Loki blinks. Where...? He turns to look around but stops short as blinding pain shoots through him. Right.
He was in the middle of another exercise with the Other. Then, how come he's here now?
The stranger tuts at him, recapturing his attention. "You're hurt. We can't have that, now can we? Here." He flicks his hand, and the pain vanishes.
Loki stares at him. That's far more advanced than any healing magic he knows.
The man offers his hand, and Loki takes it, unthinking. He's pulled to his feet effortlessly.
"Where-" he has to clear his throat, "Where am I?"
"Ah, why don't you sit down first. Would you like some tea? I imagine we've got quite a lot to talk about."
A short while later, Loki finds himself sitting on a comfortable couch in the backroom of a bookshop in Soho. ("London," Aziraphale, the owner of said bookshop had offered at Loki's blank stare. "England. Earth?")
"So," Aziraphale starts after handing over a steaming cup of tea. "How did you end up here? Gave me quite the fright, I must admit."
Loki frowns. "I don't know." He dislikes the idea of not knowing. Especially since he evidently had no control over his destination. Is this some kind of trick? Did Thanos orchestrate this?
Loki disregards the idea. Thus far, his capturer's plans have been much more straightforward. And more painful.
"Well, what were you doing before you, uh, changed locations?" Aziraphale has been remarkably patient since Loki crashed into his shop. He also seems rather observant, looking at him with empathetic eyes as Loki draws closer into himself.
"Nothing pleasant, I assume?"
Loki doesn't answer. He startles when Aziraphale places a warm hand on his own. "You don't have to tell me, of course. But it might help to figure this out."
Loki takes a deep breath, steeling himself. He has nothing left to lose. And the bookshop owner makes him feel weirdly at ease. At least more than he felt in years.
"I was captured. I don't know how long it's been." Aziraphale's hand gives him a reassuring squeeze. "They were using... certain methods to bend my will."
"They hurt you." Loki looks up and is surprised to see anger burning behind the man's kind eyes. Anger not directed at Loki, but on his behalf. He nods.
"We were in the middle of another... session. And now I'm here. I don't know what happened."
Aziraphale leans back in his own seat. "I don't mean to presume, but you have magic, don't you, my boy?" Loki blinks, then nods. "Is it possible that your magic acted on its own to get you out of there?"
Loki considers it. It would not be the first time this happened. Of course, it's been years since he had last lost control in such a way.
Before he can formulate an answer, a loud "Angel?" rings through the shop. Aziraphale startles. "Oh, dear, I completely forgot." Louder, he calls, "Back here!"
A tall, lanky man, completely dressed in black with dark red hair, and a pair of sunglasses on his nose saunters into the room. He takes a quick look at Loki before focusing his attention entirely on Aziraphale. "You have a visitor?" He sounds a bit put upon, before Aziraphale jumps up from his seat, taking the newcomer's hands. "I'm so very sorry, I forgot about dinner. But this poor boy appeared in my shop and was hurt and I couldn't just-"
"Angel," the man interrupts, voice much more gentle than before, "I get it. No need to justify yourself."
Aziraphale takes a breath and nods. He turns towards Loki. "Loki, this is Crowley, my husband. Crowley, this is Loki. He quite literally appeared out of nowhere, and we are currently trying to figure out how."
"Loki, huh?" Crowley says, shooting him a grin. "Nice to meet you."
"Likewise," Loki says politely.
He's not sure yet where to place the man. But if Aziraphale married him, he can't be too bad, he supposes. Huh. When did he form such a high opinion of the shopkeeper?
Loki watches as Aziraphale gets another cup of tea out for his husband before the two settle down together.
"Now," Crowley says, "you said, that you 'appeared out of nowhere'? How's that work?"
"Magic, presumably," Loki answers dryly.
The man huffs a laugh. "Must be some magic, you have." The way it's worded, this might have been sarcasm, but Crowley sounds surprisingly sincere.
So, Loki answers sincerely, "It would not be the first time I walked between worlds, but it usually takes a considerable amount of control. I didn't have any at that moment."
Loki watches Aziraphale turn to Crowley and mouth the word torture.
The man frowns. "No." His husband nods, face set in stone. Crowley's hands curl into fists. "Who the fuck tortures a kid?"
Loki looks at him, baffled. "I'm not a child."
He feels like Crowley squints at him from behind the sunglasses he has yet to take off. "You look like one. How old are you?"
"A little over a millennium."
Crowley baulks. "No way." He gathers himself quickly. "Okay, so, you're not human. So human standards of ageing are out the window. Are you actually an adult by whatever standard your type has?"
"Yes, the ceremony was a few years ago."
"So, you're what? 18 in human years?"
"I suppose so."
Crowley nods, leaning back. "Hate to break it to you, but you're a kid." His husband nods with a smile.
Loki frowns.
Aziraphale smiles gently. "Do you have a place to go? Surely someone must be looking for you."
"No." The pair shoot him surprised looks.
Loki shrugs, looking away. "They think I'm dead. And they're probably glad about it."
Now, the men share deep frowns.
Aziraphale leans forward, placing his hand on Loki's once again. "If that is true, then you are welcome to stay here as long as you need." Loki stares.
"Angel, you sure about this?"
The man nods. "Of course. Oh, don't give me that look. You want to send him back out even less than I do."
Loki continues staring. "Stay here?" he finally manages.
"Of course, only if you want to!" Aziraphale is quick to add. "But yes, if you'd like, you can stay here." He sounds... hopeful?
Crowley leans forward, placing his elbows on his knees. "Listen, kid, whoever hurt you deserves to rot in hell, trust me on that one. And if you're family sucks as much as it sounds like, you're much better off staying here. No one's gonna hurt you as long as you're with us."
Loki blinks, swallows. "You don't even know me. What if I deserved everything?"
He yelps when Aziraphale suddenly pulls him into a bone-crushing hug. "There is no way for you to deserve what was done to you." He pulls back slightly to smile at him. "And you're right. We don't know you. Not yet. But we would love to get to know you."
Crowley grins at him. "So, what do you say, want to stay? You can always change your mind later."
Loki stays silent for a while. He takes everything in. The way Aziraphale has still not let go of him, warm presence enveloping him. The way Crowley smiles, mischievous and kind at the same time.
The way showing up in this bookshop might be the best thing to happen to him in years.
Loki nods.