"My friends!" Thor shouted, grabbing Tony's forearm tightly in an enthusiastic greeting, followed by a warm hug. The thunder god's eyes were alight with joy, but a mere whimper of a sound had the warm fire in his eye disappear into smoky worry.
"Thor?" A fragile voice whispered from the sofa. Tony stepped aside, allowing for the elder god to approach his brother.
"Loki?"
Loki sat up, verdant eyes meeting the shocked cerulean. Shakily, he forced himself up onto his feet, and stumbled slowly towards his brother. Thor too stepped towards him slowly, as though he'd been confronted by the ghost of a loved one. But a shaky step destined to have the trickster fall was all it took for Thor to run forward to cushion his brother's fall.
The god of mischief collapsed into his brother's arms. Loki placed his forehead to Thor's chest, tiredly closing his eyes and allowed himself to slump into Thor's embrace. Thor had caught him, trying not to make a scene. Loki wrapped his arms behind Thor's back and allowed the two of them to just... stay like that for a while.
Loki's silent call for help.
"Thor," Loki whispered, delirious with exhaustion.
"My dear brother, what has happened to you? What is wrong?"
Wrong. The world rolled around in Loki's head, poisoning his thoughts, feeding his voice. He was wrong. His mere existence was wrong. His womanly abilities of magic as an Aesir male, his false identity as an Aesir, his weakness so obvious at birth that he was discarded to die as a Jotun runt. What was wrong with him?
Everything.
Thor turned to the Avengers, who looked almost uncomfortable. "My friends, what is wrong with him? Is he ill?"
"I think it's best if we talk in private," Bruce said, stepping forward.
"Brother?"
Thor gazed at his brother, his gaunt face now peacefully conflicted in sleep. It seemed at some point the god had just passed out. The elder carefully lay the fragile figure on the couch, and Natasha went to him immediately, reclaiming her position on the arm of the sofa and brushing stray strands of ebony hair from the sleeping god's face. Steve gently placed a blanket on Loki's thin form.
"Tell me of when he awakens." Natasha drew her attention from Loki only momentarily to nod.
Bruce, Tony and Steve led Thor out of the room to the corridor. Immediately, the god turned to the three.
Tell me what has happened." The warning in Thor's voice was unmistakable. Bruce and Tony looked to each other before giving a condensed version of events, from when they'd noticed Loki starting to look unwell, trying to talk to him and eventually to the events of the last few days. Thor's face grew graver and graver the more they talked.
"I see." Thor sighed.
"I'm sorry we didn't take better care of him." Steve said. The Captain was a man of duty and honour; right now he felt as though he had failed greatly in his simple duty of looking after the god.
"That's okay, my friends. It is Loki, he is the most stubborn person I know. Many a time when we were children he would fall ill, and would refuse to admit it and engage in any treatment until his health took too dire of a turn." Tony's shoulders instantly relaxed, though the sea of guilt brewing in his stomach didn't disappear.
"I've got a question though Thor." Bruce said suddenly.
"Go forth, friend Banner."
"Why is Loki's back covered in old scars?" The memory of the gruesome sight appeared in Tony's mind as he shuddered. He wouldn't be able to forget that.
"What scars? I have been told of no scars." Tony could see the genuine confusion in the god's eyes, and another emotion... fear. "Show them to me."
Bruce took them back into the room, where Natasha was gently singing songs of old, songs of her childhood she thought she'd forgotten, whilst stroking the pale man's hair. He was still sleeping. Tony thought he much resembled a child when he slept, the usual stress lines and tired eyes now relaxed in sleep. Clint seemed to be daydreaming, or perhaps just too deep in thought, his glazed stare directed hazily at the god.
"Natasha," Bruce said, walking towards the fully occupied sofa," can you help me roll him on his side please?"
The redhead nodded, and it took a worryingly little amount of effort to turn the god over. He was too light. Far too light.
Bruce gently lifted the bottom of to reveal the horrific map of scars covering Loki's back. Deep, deep scars, which even the god's accelerated healing could not heal. And the visible bones of his vertebrae and the back of his ribs only made it all more horrifying. Tony turned to Thor in time to see a single tear fall from his cheek.
"My poor brother..."
"What is it?" Tony asked.
"He did say...but he is Silvertongue, the liesmith... we were told his words were not to be trusted..."
"The hell do you mean, Point Break?"
Thor took a shuddering breath, weighted with guilt and sorrow and helplessness. "After the Tesseract helped return us to Asgard, he was taken to the AllFather to receive his sentence. We had removed his muzzle by then, but he pled with me...tried to convince...to tell me that it was not of his own free will that he did this. That he was forced to do so, given no choice. That the one who commanded him had broken him and remoulded him into his soldier. I did not listen."
Tony felt as though he was about to be sick. This meant he'd fucked up big time—they all had. If what Thor was saying was true and Tony saw no reason why it shouldn't be; the evidence was right in front of them, their treatment of Loki had been downright disgusting.
"We've really fucked up." Thor nodded his agreement, stroking Loki's now wispy hair away from his face, eyes filling with sadness as Loki unconsciously nuzzled into his hand.
"I shall take him back to our floor and make sure he gets some rest for today. Hopefully, we shall join you for dinner if Loki feels up for it. Tomorrow, I will assist you in discovering what ails him." With that Thor scoped Loki up into his arms, once more wincing at just how fragile Loki felt in his arms. "It's all going to be alright, brother," he whispered to Loki as he held him to his chest. Natasha unwillingly retracted her hand, unexpectedly missing the feel of the thin, soft hair of the broken god between her fingers.
***
They were young and it was a cold dark night.
They were but mere children and a storm had hit Asgard, the thunder and lightning won't stop. Loki saw his brother was sleeping peacefully, uncaring to the world around him until Loki carelessly allowed the door to creak open. Thor opened one eye to see Loki's lean figure standing there on the door way.
The young trickster wore a large green tunic that hung to his legs and black pants. He was slightly shaking and he looked so small. Thor yawned and propped himself with his elbow to sit.
"Loki?" Thor rubbed his eyes.
"I can't sleep." Loki muttered. "I'm—I can't—The storm is—"
The lightning and thunder sounded inside the room and Loki tensed.
"Come here, brother."
Almost immediately Loki threw himself to Thor and hid under the covers. Thor seemed too tired to bother as he embraced his brother and they both fell asleep.
***
Loki blearily opened his eyes, greeted by the oddly comforting sight of golden hair and scarlet cape facing away from him.
"Brother?" His voice came out in a painful whisper, but the mere sound of it turned all of Thor's attention to his ailing brother.
"You're still here." Loki tried to raise a hand in wonder, to touch his brother, to make sure he wasn't some cruel illusion, but his arm felt much too heavy. Seeing what he was trying to do, Thor grasped Loki's slender hand in a comforting, secure grip.
"Indeed I am, brother. I'd never leave you." Thor's voice almost broke slightly seeing how helpless Loki was.
"You left me once. To Him. You left me to His mercy. Why didn't you—" a small spurt of painful coughs that seemed to rattle Loki's ribcage interrupted his question. Thor hurriedly presented Loki with a glass of water, something Loki thankfully took a few sips of.
"I'm sorry brother. I'm so so sorry."
By now helpless tears fell into the golden prince's beard, as he held his brother delicately in his arms. He looked so breakable, so tired. How had he let Loki get in such a state? How had he not realised? He was his brother for Odin's sake. One of the strongest Asgardian warriors, future Protector of the Nine Realms, and yet he couldn't even protect his little brother.
Loki sank into his brother's embrace as his own tears mingled with those of his brother's. Everything he'd been holding back came in a torrent of tears— the pain of his torture, the pain of his upbringing, every bottled up emotion Loki had been storing for the last several centuries burst forwards as the son of Odin and the son of None cried together, seeking comfort in each other's presence.
***
A few minutes later and Loki had fallen asleep, the tears now dried on his face. Thor stroked Loki's wispy hair—it had once been so smooth and thick, what had happened to it? For the first time since his arrival, Thor really looked at his brother. Properly looked. His eyes took in the gaunt cheekbones, how the skin was stretch so tight it looked as though the bones would pop out any second. He cringed at the now noticeably thinner frame Loki possessed—how his hip bones jutted out from his thick pyjamas and how Thor could practically count every rib through the t-shirt he was wearing.
Thor longed for the bright eyes and the lips that never stopped grinning, for the voice that would yell, "Come, brother, let's do mischief together!" Thor wished desperately to go back, so that every time Loki had asked Thor to play with him, every time the little raven-haired boy had come to him in tears in the dead of night and curled up to his chest like he was the soft glow of brilliant light that kept anything and everything evil away, that he had relished every second of it.