Chapter Text
Looking at his captain, his darling super soldier, Loki felt the surge of emotions he could not name fill his head yet again. For something that started out as a game, a fleeting fancy to pass the time, how puzzling it was that such a thing as this could stir such feelings and sentiments in him.
Sometimes, Loki forgets why he adopted this guise. He forgets that Peggy Carter is nothing more than a role he adopted on a whim. He forgets the human’s war is merely child’s play to a god such as himself- something he can remove himself from with the blink of an eye. And sometimes, he even forgets that the passion and determination he shows towards the war effort are only supposed to be a front as he plays his part and not sincere feelings.
What he finds more interesting though is that when he wisens up out of his uncharacteristic forgetfulness, he realises that his thoughts of the war are also accompanied by thoughts of his captain.
Steve Rogers was a runt if he had ever seen one, even more so than he himself had been in his youth. And perhaps, he thought in retrospect, that it was for this reason he had become so taken with him, despite his initial feelings of disgust upon meeting the scrawny Rogers. Whether it was narcissism that he found such pride in Steve’s development and evolution or something else, it was undeniable; Rogers had more than just Loki’s attention.
It was almost as if Loki forgot himself around the super soldier. He later thinks back to how easy it could have been to just take Rogers for himself.
Less than a god, he was nothing more than Peggy Carter around Steve. He was patient and even delicate with how he handled whatever it was they had. How was it, he wondered, that he let his captain lead him, and not the other way around.
Had he been himself, he would have done more than exchange a few words with the captain the night he mourned Sgt. Barnes’ death. He thought of many, more passionate ways to ease Steve’s mind. He even thought that he could do away with the captain’s troublesome worries altogether by way of magic, for no reason other than to give Steve’s grieving mind a moment of peace. He could have done any and all those things for his darling super soldier.
But instead, he finds words he hopes brings Steve comfort. May they have been lies or the truth, all that had mattered to Loki the moment they escaped his mouth was that they be what Steve needed to hear.
“I’m not gonna stop until all of Hydra is dead or captured.” Steve says once again filled with determination and purpose.
“You won’t be alone.” He promises before he can even think it. And once again, Loki forgets himself and remembers only the same, naive resolve he sees in Steve. And again for a moment, more than winning the war Captain America fights, Loki thinks only of the ideals that his brave and righteous captain stands for.
*
“Steve is that you? Are you alright?” He hears her voice through the radio. His heart softens, if only a little. Steve experiences reality crashing down on him at the same time he feels himself being removed from everything that’s going on.
He licks his lips nervously. “Peggy,” the moment feels like an eternity before he forces himself to recall exactly the situations he’s in. “Schmidt’s dead.”
He settles in his seat and does his best to retain control of the plane. His eyes look the controls up and down, assessing his surrounding to the best of his capabilities.
He sees what they say, the numbers and graphs on the dashboard, but for a moment, he doubts what he sees and wonders if he understands what they really mean for him.
On the other end, Peggy forces herself to be calm. She looks for every way, every possible thing she could do to bring him home as she just continues talking him through it all. He replies to all her inquiries refutes all her suggestions. He just about knows there isn’t another way. “I’ve gotta put her in the water.” He says unwaveringly.
“Please don’t do this.” He can tell she tried to hide it, but Steve hears it, the tremble in her voice.
He feels removed, as if on automatic. Though coherent, all his mind can focus on is the inevitable end of it all. He’s served his country well, he tells himself. There is no room for regret or hesitation and he recalls Peggy’s words from the night before. He chose this and he would choose it again because he knew it was all worth it. And, he couldn’t stop himself from thinking, because Peggy was worth it.
Reaching into his pocket, he places Peggy’s picture on the dashboard before holding the controls firmly in his grip. As the plane dives, the sound of his heartbeat seems to drown out everything else.
“Peggy,” he calls out again.
“I’m here.” She replies, as if to remind him of the promise she had made him that night.
He pauses again when he seems unsure of what to tell her next. I love you. I’m sorry. Don’t forget me. Thank you. “I'm going to need a rain check on that dance,” were the only words that he felt sufficed. Part of him thought it an act of selfishness. He wasn’t doing this for just one person. With or without Peggy, his resolve would not have changed. And yet here at the end of it all, she was the only thing he could bring himself to care about.
Steve forced himself to tear his eyes from the ice and ocean below and just look at Peggy’s picture as it slide from side to side due to the turbulence. Goodbye, he thought as he looked at the unmoving face, a poor substitute for Peggy, but the only one Steve could bring himself to tell.
From where he was, Loki sensed the Colonel and the others had left, choosing to give the two this last instance together.
“You know, I still don’t know how to dance.” Steve jokes, not knowing what else is left to be said.
Again, his thoughts are a blur. Loki is a god more powerful than these mortals can imagine. It would be well within his power to take this opportunity to save Steve. He could bring his captain home if I tried, he knew it. But Loki doesn’t.
He chooses not to, and he doesn’t understand the reasoning himself. A god such as himself should not have been concerned with the naive ideals Captain America chose to die for. But a warrior’s death, was that not also something he was taught to find pride in back in Asgard? Everything he knew told him to allow his captain this last honour. His choice, the privilege of an end fitting his sacrifice . . . and maybe that small, spark of hope he foolishly held on to that Saturday at the Stork Club, he’d see Steve Rogers and maybe be the right partner Steve Rogers had been waiting for all this time.
“We’ll have the band play something slow. I’d hate to step on your to—“ the sound of static was suddenly absent the captains’ nervous banter.
Loki listens to the radio, as if waiting for the rest of that message. “Steve?” he croaks, unable to hide his emotions any longer. He feels the sting of his eyes starting to water and the wetness as it trickles down his face. “Steve,” he calls out again, trying to will his composure back.
And though he know it futile, he calls again and again, each his voice breaking with each attempt.
He doesn’t know why he weeps for Steve Rogers. All these tears for a mortal he knew for what was no more than a blink of his immortal existence.
But he cries for him now. And he cries for him as he leaves the Stork Club early Sunday morning alone. By the time he steps out onto the deck of the search and rescue ship that had been sent to find the cube or the wreckage, he thinks there are no more tears left for him to cry.
Loki then supposes his time on Midgard is about over.
The war has been won and he’s regained enough sense to know Steve Rogers has been lost to him for good. Still, he reports to Col. Phillips one last time, helping to pack up what had once been their base when the colonel hands him a file.
He sees the look on the colonel’s face as passes the file to him and doesn’t have to guess who it belongs to. His hand lingers. Opening the file marked with Steve’s name, his eyes immediately dart to what looks like a picture peeking out from under the fold. Picking it up, he sees the scrawny blonde he wouldn’t even spare a second glance when they first met.
Though he packs the file up along with the rest, he pockets the picture, allowing himself one last memento of his fallen Captain America.
*
Heimdall greets him as he reaches the Bifrost. Loki does not spare him so much as a nod and continues walking.
As luck would have it, he takes no more than a few paces past the gatekeeper and he is accosted by Thor and his band of warriors. “Brother!” the god of thunder bellows as he sees Loki.
Before Loki can so much as brace himself, Thor envelops him in an embrace that seemed intended to crush the life out of him. “We have missed you here. And about how much havoc did you unleash on those poor humans during your stay?” Thor joked as he let his brother go.
Loki straightened himself up and instinctively reached for the picture he kept close hidden in a pocket by his breast, ensuring it still intact without a thought.
Curious, Thor did not even allow his brother a reply before plucking the flimsy photograph out of Loki’s hands. “And what is this? Is this how humans appear now? They are far more frail-looking than my memory recalls.” he snorted mockingly.
Anger and panic flared up in Loki’s head and it took all his willpower not to lunge at Thor for taking the photograph from him. Composing himself, Loki coolly replied, unwilling to let his brother know that what he held was something of meaning to him. “No, not at all.” Sif and the warriors three all glanced at the photograph in Thor’s hands and laughed quietly at what they saw as a joke. “He was nothing more than a human I had met while I was there.”
Thor returned the picture, no longer needing it. “Met you say. If I know you brother, your mischief would surely caused this poor human even more grief than he was already burdened with.” Thor’s tone was teasing in a playful manner, but the words he spoke still cut Loki deep as if he had meant so in insult. “I feel sorry for any human that had the misfortune of crossing your path, brother.” Thor smiled as he pat Loki’s shoulder affectionately.
“Come now, Midgard is of no importance now. We are off to hunt; you should consider joining us, brother. ” Thor offered, though Loki could see the lack of enthusiasm on the other’s face when he invited Loki.
Voiding his face of any emotion, Loki merely shook his head in response. “Not today, brother. I fear another trip through the Bifrost would only wear me out after such a long time away from home.”
Thor and the others accepted his reply easily. Whether it be because they lacked any real interest in him joining them or because they thought Loki in need of rest, it did not matter and Loki was just thankful as his brother and friends turned their backs and left.
He looked down at the picture, the paper in worse condition after being handled by Thor and his friend. Loki frowned and returned it to his breast. “Unfortunately,” he said to no one. “I’ve already started running.”