Therapy Fit for a God Chapter 1

Loki/OFC
Rated M (may go up to E in future chapters)
Trigger Warnings: Angst, talk of suicide, therapy, unhealthy family dynamics

Loki’s plans to conquer and rule Midgard have come to a disastrous end. After being captured by the Avengers, he is being held on Earth. Odin has refused to interfere, and the outlook for the God of Mischief appear bleak. His only hope may lie in one mortal woman, a Psychiatric expert brought in to interrogate him.

Dr. Caroline Thorpe is intrigued by Loki and thinks that more lies beneath his actions than is commonly known. Can she find out the truth before he is shipped off to die for crimes against the Earth? And can Loki bring himself to care?

@yespolkadotkitty@just-the-hiddles@hopelessromanticspoonie@wine-and-whines@arch-venus25@caffiend-queen@devilish–doll@enchantedbyhiddles@hiddlesholic@i-do-not-fangirl-i-fanwoman@kellatron55@ladyoftheteaandblood@latent-thoughts@yespolkadotkitty@maryxglz@myoxisbroken@nuggsmum@nildespirandum@pedeka@redfoxwritesstuff@sinfully-lustful-darling@vodka-and-some-sass@wrathkitty@kingtwhiddleston@wolfsmom1@poetic-fiasco@shiningloki@dangertoozmanykids101@bookworm-christina@amwolowicz@delightfulheartdream@frostbitten-written@what-a-flammable-heart@tom-hlover@nonsensicalobsessions@myraiswack@loki-yoursaviourishere@ghostypau@ms-cellanies@colorfulfreakstudentpizza@mareebird@colorfulfreakstudentpizza @szycha22@chokemedaddyloki@queenofallhobos​@just-the-hiddles-reads​

What the Hel were they waiting for?

As he sat in his cell, refusing to give the agents he knew were watching him the satisfaction of seeing him pace, Loki was very well aware he was living on borrowed time. After all, he had just led a murderous alien army against one of their largest cities. He had rolled the dice with the Chitari and lost in humiliating fashion. He knew what his punishment was certain to be, no matter what fantasy Thor tried to peddle. He wished they would just get on with it.

He heard her heels clicking along the tiled floor before she came into view. Plastering a superior sneer onto his face, Loki looked up to see a surprisingly youthful, if not exactly young, woman in a navy skirt suit and pale pink blouse approach his glass cage. With a smile she flashed her badge at the pair of guards flanking the door. He could not hear their words, the prison was soundproofed, but it seemed some sort of disagreement was taking place. Much to his amusement it was the soldiers who finally backed down, punching the code to open his cell into the panel. Weapons drawn they escorted the woman into the enclosure where the God was being held.

As if they needed the weapons. With the inscrolled cuffs binding his wrists, Loki was incapable of accessing his magical powers. Hel, he could not even move his arms far enough to cross them over his chest as habit suggested he do. He supposed he could have used brute strength to muscle his way out, mortals were easy enough to subdue even manacled as he was, but to be honest he didn’t really care enough to try.

The woman flashed him an incongruous smile, only slightly tinged with insecurity, and made her way to the table across from him. Director Fury had been the last person to sit in that seat, and his smile had been very different. It seemed one eyed men of all realms agreed that Loki was beyond redemption. Fury had taken great pleasure in informing Loki that Odin had failed to lift a finger to retrieve his adopted son from the vengeance of Midgard. Thor, that soft hearted oaf, had begged for mercy on his behalf, but when had Loki ever been shown mercy?

“Hello,” the woman greeted him, sitting down and opening a large file folder. “My name is Dr. Caroline Thorpe. I have been contracted by the powers that be to conduct a thorough examination and debriefing of you… I see in my notes that you are listed variously as Prince Loki Odinson, Mr. Loki Laufeyson, Loki God of Mischief… How would you like me to address you?”

“Your Majesty would be acceptable,” Loki drawled, crossing his ankles in front of him as he spread out on the bench indolently. “My King, Your Worship, My God… any of those will work.”

“Prince Odinson it is,” she said with a small smile.

“No!” Loki surprised himself by his vehemence. “Not that. Odin is no father to me, as he has made very clear of late.”

“Very well. Why don’t we just stick with Loki then.”

“And shall I call you Caroline?” he asked, making his voice a purr.

“If you wish,” she shrugged, ignoring his attempt to disconcert her.

“Just what are you a doctor of, may I ask?”

“I have phds in Psychology, Neuro Development, and Trauma Therapy,” she told him.

“And you work for SHIELD.”

“Not officially. They bring me in from time to time. I helped Mr. Stark after his experience in captivity, and have worked profiling other threats, real and perceived, from various individuals. But this is not about me. This is about you.”

“Are you here to determine if I am sane enough to stand trial?” he snarled, leaning forward now and narrowing his eyes. “I assure you I am ready. I find I tire of Midgardian hospitality, and if the only way to end it is via the axe, then for gods’ sake, let them swing it.”

“Is that what you want?” she asked, resting her chin on one hand.

“What?”

“The axe. To die. In short, are you suicidal?”

“Suicide is a coward’s way out,” he snapped.

“Maybe,” she still sounded unphased. “Or it’s a desperate man’s way out. When pain is so intense that living seems the lesser trial. You suggested earlier that I call you your majesty. You served as King of Asgard for a time, did you not?”

“I was the rightful King!”

“And how did that come about? Your father – excuse me, Odin, is still alive.”

“You wouldn’t understand.”

“Try me,” she leaned back in her chair, raising her eyebrows.

“When one lives for thousands of years as we do, rather than the pitiful lifespan of your kind, and one exerts the amount of power that Odin wields, from time to time a rest is required. It is called the Odin Sleep. Pretentious, don’t you think? In any event, he had fallen into it. Thor was banished, and so I became King.”

“Thor was banished? Why?”

“For the good of Asgard! Had he been allowed to remain and to rule, it would have been nothing but genocide and war across the nine realms!”

“My goodness! How fortunate for all of us then that Odin saw that.”

“Odin,” Loki sneered, standing up and pacing despite his best intentions. “Odin was a fool,  blinded by a father’s fancy. He never saw Thor for what he was. No one did. They were all ready to give the realm up to him.”

“And yet, he was banished.”

“Ah, I see your game. It is not enough to convict me for my crimes here on Midgard. You want to tar me with my prior acts as well. Very well, I confess. I am not ashamed of it. Thor was a danger to the nine realms. No one else was going to stop him, so I took matters into my own hands. I allowed in a small group of Jotun soldiers to the vault. Not enough to steal anything, mind you. The destroyer was more than a match for them. Just enough to delay the ceremony and give my short tempered brother a match to light the flame of his temper. And what could be more predictable than that he went roaring in, hammer flying, to try and take on an entire race with nothing more than a mere handful of companions. We would be dead if I had not alerted the guard to his intent! But do I receive thanks for that? No. All I got from halting the ill thought assault on the Jotunheim was condemnation, betrayal, and pain.”

He had not meant to reveal so much. The memory still caused pain, in as much as he allowed himself to feel anything. He had saved them, all of them, only to be accused of jealousy and worse by those who were supposed to be his friends. He had needed so much at that time to feel that he was one of them. Loki had always struggled with the knowledge that he was an outsider, only allowed because he was Thor’s brother, held in the blond God’s affections like a beloved pet. With Thor gone and his own true parentage revealed, Loki had been more alone than ever. He longed for one of them, anyone, to reach out to him. Not that he had any delusion of taking Thor’s place in their group, he did not want to. But with his very identity spinning out of his control, any sign that he was part of a group, a welcome member of the band, would have helped him to keep his moorings.

“I am not trying to convict you of anything,” Dr. Thorpe said calmly. “I am simply trying to ascertain what led to your invasion. Surly it was not as simple as envying your brother’s throne.”

“I never wanted the throne!” Loki snapped, automatically. He didn’t know why, no one ever believed him. “No, I see your game. You want to lull me into a false sense of ease. To play the kind, friendly counterpoint to Fury’s righteous anger. You will not convict me, as you say, you will merely draw out confidences until I convict myself.”

“Then you think yourself guilty then?”

“Guilty of trying to improve the miserable lives of the pathetic inhabitants of this world, yes.”

“As long as we obeyed your commands.”

“Well, I am a God.”

“But you don’t want a throne.”

“It is not a matter of want. I was born to it. Told day after day, century after century that it was my destiny to rule.”

“Why was that do you think?” she asked him.

“All part of the AllFather’s glorious plans,” he laughed without humor. “He told both of his ‘sons’ they were meant to rule. He just didn’t tell us the rest of it. Thor was meant to rule over the splendor of Asgard, an adoring people supporting his every jingoistic impulse. Whereas I was destined for a different, colder fate. King of race of monsters who I was indoctrinated to despise. A race, might I add, that would not look with adoration at me despite my parentage, but rather revulsion that such a weak, stunted puppet as I was being forced upon them by the very colonizer who destroyed their home and stole me from my fated death. Oh yes, an equally wonderful destiny for us both.”

“It is true then? Odin stole you from a Jotun temple when you were a baby?”

“Abandoned by my other loving father. Yes. A happy tale, is it not?”

“Better than dying in the cold,” she suggested.

“Is it? The warm embrace of a family? A family where a common theme was the destruction of all the monster Jotuns? One of the first games my brother and I played was of the great battle in which King Thor would lead the mighty army of Asgard. Thor was always the King, even then. He would swoop in, legions behind him, and slay every last Frost Giant, that the evil, bestial race die out forever. And how did Odin react? By tousling his blond head and handing him Mjornir, the weapon with which to obtain his genocidal heart’s desire. Tell me, Dear Doctor, what such an upbringing would instill in a Jotun child. Do you think they would learn to love their people? To see the good in themselves? And when their true nature was revealed, what then?”

“It must have been terrifying.”

“I fear nothing.”

“No? You say your brother dreamed of killing all of the Jotuns. Tell me, Loki, when you found out what you were, did you fear – did you think he might include you in his plans?”

“I fail to see what this has to do with the invasion.”

“Forget the invasion for a moment. It must have crossed your mind. Just that day Thor had led you all to the Jotunheim to slay the Frost Giants. He tried to take on the entire race, wipe out their evil forever, as you said. All of that hate, all of that killing fervor, directed at a group that you were suddenly included in.”

Loki scoffed and looked away, but inside he was in turmoil. The fear had been almost crippling. He had been sorry at first that Thor had been banished. He had meant for his scheme to end in the coronation being delayed, had never thought that it would go as far as Odin casting his brother out of Asgard. He loved Thor, and while their relationship was not without conflict, he could not imagine his life without him.

And then the whisper of a thought had slid like a knife into his brain. His arm and hand had not burned but turned blue where the Frost Giant touched him. What did that mean? Quietly he had made his way into the vault, treading the long familiar halls until he stood before the nook containing the casket of endless winter. It was as if he could hear it singing to him, a song that spoke of sheer cliffs and sparkling snows, crisp days and chilling nights. Compelled, he had reached out and clutched the casket, and his world had ended.

When he felt Odin appear behind him, Loki had known a last glimmer of hope. Surely this was some Jotun trick. His father would deny it, would explain why this was happening to him and make everything alright. Instead, Odin had confirmed in stark, harsh words Loki’s worst fears. He was a monster. No wonder he had been shunned all his life. No wonder he was left to beg for scraps at Thor’s heels. He was the unwanted son of Asgard’s mortal enemy. One of the evil creatures Thor had sworn to eliminate from existence.

Thank the Norns that Thor was not there! He had been even more dismissive than usual of late, scorning Loki’s advice and belittling him in public these days as well as in private. Loki had hoped that it was merely the stress of the coronation, but what if it was more? What if Thor was beginning to sense that something was wrong with Loki? What if he was preparing himself for the moment when his hatred of the Frost Giants drove him to take the life of one who had been raised as his brother?

“Thor directs a killing fervor at whoever happens to be in his line of vision,” Loki tried for a bored flippancy. “Why should I have expected to be exempt?”

“Because you were his brother,” Dr. Thorpe suggested.

“Ah, but I am not.”

“Aren’t you?”

“If I was, do you think he would have so casually let me fall from the rainbow bridge? Oh, he made a token reach for me out of habit, as did Odin, but do you really think that if the combined might of Thor, God of Thunder, and Odin, AllFather tried to save me I would have fallen into the abyss?”

“Or not even Gods, as you call yourselves, are infallible.”

“Careful, little Doctor, you tread on heresy!”

“Hardly the first time,” she flashed a distracting smile despite his attempt to once more intimidate her, “I’m a diehard agnostic.”

Loki took a closer look at this woman who had been brought in to interrogate him. She was attractive, for a mortal. Bright, intelligent eyes, thick hair, conservatively dressed but not without a certain sense of style he could appreciate. More than that though, she seemed unintimidated by him. All of the other mortals he had come in contact with were obviously terrified of him. Whether they expressed it by hostile attempts at intimidation or shrinking visibly in his presence, he had easily read their fear in presence. This doctor though, she seemed completely unbothered to be locked in a room with a mass murderer. Absurdly, Loki was a bit offended by this. He had worked hard to come across as menacing in his takeover attempt. The least he deserved as a balm to his bruised ego was to see the Midgardians squirm when he growled.

A top on the glass sounded and Loki and the doctor both looked over to see a blond man of older years for a mortal glaring at them through the window. Ah, the alpha approach to fear. Puffing out his chest a bit, Loki broadened his shoulders and sneered at the man who’s name he refused to learn but who had barked at him before. Dr. Thorpe looked no less happy than he to see the bureaucrat, but after a brief grimace only Loki was allowed to see due to his position, she stood up and made her way to the door.

***

Caroline struggled to contain her irritation as she exited the glass cell, working to paste a serene look onto her over expressive face. She had lost count of the number of times her failure to hide her thoughts had gotten her into hot water with authorities at her various posts. It was her Achilles heel; no matter how much training she had in various methods of psychology, she had never mastered the blank stare that so many therapists affected.

“Secretary Pierce,” she greeted the man, trying for a friendly tone and not convincing herself. “What brings you down here?”

“I was about to ask you the same question,” the man did not look pleased.

“Sir? I was just debriefing the detainee, as ordered.”

And she had just begun to make progress! She knew, absolutely knew beyond a doubt that there was more going on with this Asgardian Prince than the world was aware of. Everything about his actions since arriving on Earth had been a jumble of contradictions. He was obviously brilliant but made errors that anyone could have foreseen. He demanded obeisance in grand statements about his Godliness, but Caroline would swear that she saw nothing but self-loathing in his eyes.

Why had he come here? It was obvious to her that he was running from something or towards, she was not yet sure, but her instincts told her it was vital to find out. To do that, she had to get him to trust her, at least a little, and she would not do that with glowering government dignitaries hovering over her shoulder.

“I did not order any such thing,” Pierce said, glaring at her. “The prisoner is dangerous. He is scheduled to be transferred to the Raft tomorrow, where he will be tried, condemned, and executed.”

“Director Fury gave the order, Sir,” she bit back the angry retort that the prisoner had yet to stand trial, and therefore his conviction, much less his death, was a bit premature.

“Fury’s gone soft,” one of the agents who always seemed to flank Pierce muttered.

“I dare you to say that to his face,” Caroline said sweetly. “Sir, if the prisoner is leaving us tomorrow anyway, and will not be around in any capacity much longer after that, then what harm could there be in talking to him? Maybe I will discover something that could be of use to us against future threats.”

“You really think you can get something out of him?”

As one, they all turned to where Loki was lounging indolently on his bench, a mocking gaze taking them all in as if he was holding them prisoner rather than the other way around.

Lord, he was attractive, a small voice remarked inconsequentially in her mind. Caroline tried not to blush as she turned back to the men who all towered over her. The last thing she needed was for Pierce and his goons to suspect she had a soft spot for the alien invader. She would never get near him again.

“I think that if I don’t, I will only have wasted my own time and his,” she replied. “Threats have not worked; he doesn’t fear us in the slightest. Why not let me try a different approach.”

“You have until the pick him up tomorrow,” Pierce agreed begrudgingly. “After that, the Asgardian’s time is up.”

Nodding and letting her smile slip away as she turned her back on the exiting men, she focused on the one sitting behind what she knew was impenetrable glass, wrists shackled together.

One day to decipher the mystery this man represented. She had her work cut out for her.