Chapter Text
“The Tesseract or your brother’s life,” Thanos said. Thor stared at Loki, ash-pale, pain etched in the lines around his mouth and barely clinging to consciousness. Searching for some sign, some signal.
The universe, or his brother.
Thor regretted his choice the moment the light in Loki’s eyes went out.
What was done had been undone. Loki lived. He breathed. He leaned into Thor’s chest with a quiet sigh and said, “Thor.” Just that; it was enough. Thor held him too tightly and wept.
“You’re back,” he said, over and over. “You’re back. I’m sorry-”
“Don’t be,” Loki said quietly. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for.”
That wasn’t true. Thor knew it wasn’t true. But he wanted it to be, and so tried to let himself believe it.
But Thor realized quickly that all was not well. Specifically, all was not well with Loki.
He was not precisely avoiding Thor, but he was…distant. Not cold, exactly, but when they were together his expressions remained largely opaque, or slightly muted. Thor watched him, worry growing, and finally asked him outright: “is something wrong?”
“Hm?” Loki seemed surprised, giving Thor a quick, startled, look. There were dark circles around his eyes such that Thor wondered when he had last slept. “No,” he said, a moment later. “No, nothing - why?”
“You seem…” Thor considered his words carefully, and finally just said, “troubled.”
“I did die,” Loki said, with a hint of wry humor. “And my murderer halved the population of the universe, only to see them all returned thereafter. I think perhaps we are all a little troubled.”
That explanation did not feel satisfying to Thor, but he did not know how to contest it. He just eyed Loki carefully and finally nodded, reaching out to lay a hand on his shoulder.
“I’m glad you’re here, brother,” he said, infusing the words with all the feeling he could summon, somehow feeling he needed to. Loki’s eyebrows pulled together strangely before he smiled, faint and crooked. It wasn’t insincere, but Thor still thought there was something unsaid behind it.
“Say that too often and I might think you’re trying to prove something,” Loki said. Thor jerked, his eyes widening, and a quick flicker in Loki’s eyes made Thor think he hadn’t meant to say that. “I tease,” Loki said quickly. “Too sharply, it seems.”
“Do you disbelieve me?” Thor asked bluntly, an ache in his chest. Your brother, or the Tesseract. Did Loki think–
“No,” Loki said. “No, Thor. I believe you.” He held up his hands. “I am sorry. A jest in poor taste.”
Thor summoned a smile, though it felt a little strained. “No need to apologize,” he said. “So long as you don’t mean it.”
“Of course not,” Loki scoffed. “The way you wept all over me was proof enough.”
“I am not ashamed,” Thor said firmly, though he still could not shake that nagging feeling that there was something hiding beneath the surface of what Loki was telling him. And with Loki…that something could be very, very, important.
In retrospect, Thor didn’t know why he’d thought going to Valkyrie would be helpful.
“What,” she said, giving him an incredulous look. “Do you think your brother talks about his feelings to me?”
“I’d hoped,” Thor said. She snorted.
“I don’t do talking about feelings,” she said. “And he doesn’t seem to be a big fan, either. So…no, I don’t know what’s going on with him, other than, you know. The ‘dying’ thing.”
Thor exhaled, frustrated. She eyed him, and seemed to relent. “You could ask the witch,” she said. “Wanda. What’s her name.”
Thor gave her a blank look. “Why would she know?”
“They started talking, her and Loki,” Val said. “Magic stuff, I guess. She still comes around every once in a while. They might almost be friends.” Thor blinked. He hadn’t known that, and he was a little bothered that he hadn’t. He should have. Why hadn’t Loki mentioned it?
“Or,” Val said, “you could always leave it alone and not go snooping in his business.”
“Something’s wrong,” Thor said.
“And trying to stick your nose in it might make it worse,” Val said. “Just saying.”
Thor sighed. She might have a point. Or not sticking his nose in it might make things worse. It was impossible to know which.
“I’ll give it a few days,” he said. “See what happens. Maybe whatever it is will resolve itself.”
“Sounds good,” Valkyrie said. “Now get out of my room. I have someone coming over and she’s not into men.”
Thor left. He walked to where Loki was staying and stood outside the door, staring at it as though it might tell him something.
The Tesseract, or your brother’s life.
Loki had never spoken of it. But neither, Thor realized, had he. He’d tried to apologize, but Loki had brushed it off, and he’d never pressed the matter. Hadn’t wanted to. He’d just wanted…he’d decided that Loki understood, that Thor had regretted his choice from the moment after he’d made it, that he’d gone half mad with it, that he’d wished, over and over again, that he’d been more selfish.
He knows. He has to know. If he didn’t he would hate me.
Thor backed away from the door, a lump in his throat. He hadn’t seen Loki’s hatred and resentment growing before. Maybe he was missing it again.
He couldn’t afford to let that happen. Not again.
Thor tried to broach the subject delicately, but he’d forgotten how adept Loki could be at sliding out of conversations he didn’t want to have - and apparently, anything that even drew near to the events on the Statesman was a conversation Loki didn’t want to have.
Which - Thor supposed there was more than one reason that might be the case. Loki might have returned unmarked, but Thor had not failed to notice the way he’d flinched away from any touch that drew near his neck.
But Thor feared it might be something else. And the more his efforts failed, the more he found himself noticing things, small things, though he could not be certain he wasn’t imagining it: Loki seemed quieter than usual, and almost suspiciously agreeable. The lack of argument that had been a relief now started to seem like distance. Did he imagine that Loki sometimes looked at him with something like wariness? That he seemed, at times, about to speak some thought only to cut himself off?
He knew he was driving himself mad. Subtlety seemed to be ineffective.
It was time to take a different tack.
“Loki,” Thor said, on a quiet, lazy afternoon when they were playing a card game (for no stakes at all, despite Loki’s protest), “I’d like to talk to you about…about what happened on the Statesman.”
Loki went still, for a moment, before rearranging one of his cards without looking up. “I’d rather not.”
“I know,” Thor said carefully, “but I think it is important.”
Loki sighed out, then laid his cards facedown on the floor and looked in Thor’s direction, his expression neutral. “I know what you want to discuss,” he said, “and there’s no point in it.”
Thor blinked, then frowned. “How can you know what I want to discuss?”
“I know you.” Loki examined him, then shook his head. “Leave it, Thor.”
“What do you think I’m going to say,” Thor said stubbornly. Loki made a bit of a face and rubbed the palm of his left hand, betraying the nerves he was otherwise hiding.
“You are going to try to apologize for making the choice that you did,” Loki said evenly. “For choosing to hold back the Tesseract and sacrifice me. It’s unnecessary.”
Thor felt a bit as though Loki had hit him over the head. “Unnecessary?” He said, after a moment. Loki raised his eyebrows.
“That is what I said. Your hearing isn’t going already, is it?”
Thor ignored that. “What do you mean, unnecessary? You died because I-”
“Made the sensible choice,” Loki interrupted, though Thor thought he saw him twitch. His stomach started to ache. “It was a sound calculation. My life or the lives of trillions - more than that - of others. In the balance…”
Thor took several deep breaths before he spoke. “Your life is not - a thing that can be placed on a scale.”
Loki cocked his head a little to the side. “Isn’t that what you did?”
The Tesseract or your brother’s life. The two set against each other, and he had made the choice that seemed the wiser.
A stone dropped heavily into Thor’s stomach. He stared at Loki, unsure how to articulate what was wrong about…all of this. About how easily Loki justified the choice Thor had hated himself for making. How easily Loki justified his own death as a sensible choice, a sound calculation.
“I wouldn’t have expected anything else,” Loki said, one corner of his lips twitching up. “That’s what it means to be a hero, isn’t it? To make the hard choices?”
At least, a voice murmured in Thor’s head, he acknowledges that it was difficult. At least he doesn’t think it was easy for you.
But I wouldn’t have expected anything else.
“Would you have done the same?” Thor blurted out. “If our positions had been reversed, and you held the Tesseract - would you have watched me die before handing it over?”
Loki hesitated. His eyes skated a little away. “I am more selfish than you are,” he said, at length. Another stone joined the first in Thor’s stomach.
“But you expected that I…” Thor inhaled, and let it out slowly. “And you would not hold this against me?” His voice sounded small. Never before, Thor thought, had he wished for Loki to be angry with him.
“No,” Loki said simply. “Why would I?”
Because I am your brother. Because we swore to protect each other.
Because no matter what I pretended in that moment, I am selfish too.
“I regretted it,” Thor said. His voice came out hoarse. “Every second after, I regretted it. If I’d thought it would bring you back I would have given the Tesseract over in a heartbeat. I needed you, Loki, I couldn’t breathe for missing you-”
“Thor,” Loki said. He shook his head, not wanting to hear more painful, horrifying words about how little Loki seemed to think Thor valued his life.
“I would have done anything-”
“Thor,” Loki said, softer but more firmly. “Stop. Don’t you think you’ve wept over me enough?”
He was weeping, Thor realized. He dashed the tears from his eyes. “Apparently not.” He looked away, jaw working. “Do you truly believe I value your life so little?”
“It isn’t that.”
“Then what?”
“It is just what needed to be done.”
“You wouldn’t have!” Thor said, his voice rising. “Do you think I love you less?”
Loki’s hesitation was a punch in the gut. Thor pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes, bending forward. Oh, yes. This was much worse than Loki’s anger.
“You have other responsibilities than me,” Loki said, sounding uncomfortable. “I am aware of that.”
“You are not a responsibility,” Thor said into his hands.
“Oh, at least a little,” Loki said, too lightly. Thor raised his head to give him a hard look, and Loki’s strained smile fell away. “Norns, Thor. I’m fine now.”
“No, you aren’t,” Thor accused. “Your death still haunts you. As it haunts me. And you dismiss my role in it as excusable.”
“Do you want me to be angry?”
“Yes!” Thor said, almost anguished. “I would rather that than your - than this indifference!”
Loki’s shoulders slumped slightly. “It is not indifference,” he said. “Just understanding. I am trying to absolve you of your guilt, Thor. You don’t need it.”
“I swore,” Thor said. “After you fell, when I learned that you lived, I swore I would never let it happen again. And I failed. Twice.”
“You shouldn’t make promises you can’t keep,” Loki said, again too lightly, and Thor briefly wanted to hit him, and then hated himself for the urge. “My life isn’t yours to save,” Loki added, more seriously.
“Then whose?” Thor asked. “Not yours, when you would give it away so easily.”
“Not easily,” Loki said, and Thor knew it wasn’t what he meant but his mind’s eye was suddenly full of the image of Loki struggling, dying. He swallowed hard.
“It isn’t right,” he said, though weakly. “You should be able to expect better of me.”
“Ah, Thor,” Loki said. “You should not judge yourself by my low expectations.”
“Even when I live up to them?” Thor squeezed his eyes closed, his stomach twisting.
“You did exactly what you should have done,” Loki said, too gently. “No more. No less.”
“And I wish,” Thor said, “that I had done anything else. I wish that I had been selfish.”
“You would never have forgiven yourself,” Loki said, something oddly hollow in his voice. “If you had. Regret is one thing. Responsibility for that much death-”
“I will never forgive myself now,” Thor said. “No matter how easily you forgive me-”
“I didn’t say that,” Loki said. Thor stopped dead.
“What?”
“I said I understood,” Loki said. “I didn’t say I forgave.” The corner of his lips tilted up again, though his eyes were unhappy. “I’ve just decided it doesn’t matter.”
Thor stared at him. The rocks in his gut seemed to have transformed into a sea, churning.
“It was a sound calculation,” Loki said quietly. “That doesn’t mean I can be happy that you made it.”
“How can that not matter?” Thor managed to ask, finally.
“How can it?” Loki said, still with that crooked, melancholy smile. “I won’t leave you entirely without family. And you are my brother, and I love you.”
Some part of Thor was grateful to hear that. But… “What can I do?” He asked. Loki looked away, that smile fading.
“Let it go,” he said. “Pretend we never had this conversation.”
Thor shook his head. “I cannot.”
“Do not whip yourself bloody over me.”
“Why not,” Thor said, and there was an edge in his voice. “Because you aren’t worth it?”
Loki said nothing. Thor just stared at him.
“You are,” he said finally, hoarsely. “At least to me.”
Loki shifted. He looked down, and picked up his cards. “Let’s just go back to the game,” he said finally, and his voice sounded hoarse as well, though his face still betrayed little.
Thor bowed his head. “Very well,” he said wearily. “Cards it is.”