#unhealthy family dynamics
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 @alwida10
Taking a deep breath as she heard the door click back into place, Caroline tried to center herself again before beginning once more with her patient.
“Oh dear, I hope there are no problems, Doctor?” Loki asked, false concern coloring his voice.
“No, no problems,” Caroline smiled at him. “I learned how to deal with gun-toting bureaucrats long ago.”
“If you would like, I could deal with him for you,” the God suggested. “Simply be so good as to unlock my manacles and I will gladly make sure that particular problem is out of the way permanently.”
From a purely ethical perspective, Caroline had issues with a patient being chained during a session. I this instance, however, she had a strong suspicion that no amount of persuasion would convince the magical being seated before her to remain once the cuffs were removed. While it was not her preference to treat an unwilling patient, this particular one was so clearly in desperate need of her services that she was persuaded to make an exception.
“I hardly think interrupting our therapy session is a capital offense,” she said after a moment’s reflection.
“Therapy? Is that what this is supposed to be?”
“Of a sort,” she shrugged. “We can call it something else if the term offends you.”
“I merely find it humorous. After all, where I am headed the status of my emotions is like to matter little. And after that… well, I won’t have to deal with pesky emotions at all.”
“And will that be a relief for you?” she took a gamble, probing him a bit.
“Emotions are a weakness. The sooner you learn that dear doctor, the better you’ll be.”
“I think emotions can be our greatest strength. However, seeing everything you have been through in your long life, I can understand why you might have some hesitation about that.”
“And what could you possibly know about my life?” Loki scoffed.
“Well, you told me a bit about it,” she pointed out. “You were abandoned by your birth father, taken from your home, lied to by your adopted parents, overlooked in favor of an adored sibling, and to top it all off, you found out about your true nature in a horribly traumatic fashion. That’s enough to make anyone want to emotionally shut down. Either that or tumble off the deep end into emotional chaos.”
“Don’t make chaos sound so unappealing,” Loki said. “It can be quite liberating. And after all, I do rule over it as a God.”
“That’s right, you’re God of Chaos and Lies as well as Mischief.”
“I prefer to think of it as stories more than lies,” Loki said innocently. “Lies just sounds so naughty, doesn’t it? But then, maybe that’s part of the appeal.”
“Don’t try to distract me with semantics,” Caroline told him with a disarming smile, ignoring how appealing it was when he said the word. “We were talking about your reaction to the discovery of your true origins. I take it you embraced chaos.”
“It is my nature.”
“You sent the Destroyer, I think it’s called? To Earth to kill your brother.”
“Kill or be killed, what would you do?”
“Not commit fratricide, I hope. Did you really think Thor would kill you?”
“What was I meant to think?” Loki exploded. “All of our lives, he spoke of killing every last Jotun. He dreamed of it. Longed for it. Planned endlessly for the day when he could carry out those dreams as King. Why should I ever suspect that a weekend on this dreary planet would turn him into a simpering puppy where they were concerned? All because of a pair of big brown eyes.”
“You mean Jane Foster?”
“That woman. I had tried to reason with Thor for centuries. Pointed out the problematic nature of genocide, counseled restraint and diplomacy, and for centuries I was mocked for it. Then a pretty female makes the exact same arguments and suddenly Thor is a pacifist?”
“He had changed when he came back to Asgard.”
“In some ways. In others he was exactly the same as always. He had experienced this grand epiphany and was now a warrior for peace, and therefore everyone else must instantly and intuitively know that the world had reordered itself. A mere handful of days prior he had tried to bring about the end of the Jotunheim himself and considered it worthy of songs and celebrations. But when I attempted the same, attempted to show that my loyalty was and always would be to Asgard and our family, I was a criminal, interested in only death and destruction! I spent my life pushing back against Thor and Odin’s reflexive shows of brute force, and the moment I finally embraced the family way they changed it! Why should I be held to a standard different from the one they set all my life? How is that fair?”
Heaving himself off of the bench, Loki strode over to the side of his cell farthest from the watching guards and leaned his head on a forearm pressed to the glass. Caroline could see the rise and fall of his back as he struggled to get his emotions under control.
“It’s not,” she said simply.
“What?” the word was barely audible from where he stood.
“It’s not fair,” she said again.
“Careful doctor,” he warned, turning his head to look at her. “You contradict the great rulers of Asgard and the Nine Realms.”
“How fortunate for me then that I am not one of their subjects.”
“The AllFather may not see it that way.”
“Loki, I know it may sound blasphemous, but I really don’t care what Odin thinks, or Thor either. For the former, I have never met him, and from everything I have heard I am grateful for it. As for Thor… I have met him on a handful of occasions. He strikes me as carelessly kind, overly headstrong, and more than a touch egotistical. Not terribly dissimilar from several other enhanced people I have come across in my line of work. I have a casual linking for him, but I cannot imagine how irritating it would be to be his sibling. The only member of the Asgardian royal family I am interested in right now is you.”
“Why Caroline,” Loki purred, turning with a predatory gleam and sauntering deliberately over to the table where she sat, “why didn’t you say so in the first place?”
***
She was good, he had to give her that. Most of the mortals Loki had met since arriving on Earth would have shrunk back visibly with him looming over them, manacles of no. He was considerably tall by their standards, and he had learned several hundred years ago how to use his presence to his advantage. Instead of flinching away from him, Dr. Thorpe just directed a quizzical look up at him, as though trying to decipher what secret his new tactic was hiding. Only the pulse he could see beating rapidly in her neck betrayed any kind of alarm.
She smelled nice. The thought passed irrelevantly through his mind. A light smell of strawberries that he believed must be from her shampoo surrounded her. Loki had always enjoyed the fruit, particularly when matched with chocolate.
“If you are trying to intimidate me,” she said hardily, “you will have to try better than that.”
“Intimidate you? On the contrary, I was trying to entice you. Are my skills as rusty as that?”
“It’s interesting that your words when flirting are move removed from your true self than any of the other words you have spoken thus far. If I were to guess, I would say you were not one to give your heart over rapidly to another the way Thor did with Jane. Is that part of why it surprised you so much?”
“Why would I ever give my heart to anyone?” he asked, still keeping his voice pleasant as he sat on the edge of her desk, crowding into her space. “I am not so cruel. And who in their right mind would want such a tarnished thing?”
“Tarnish is easy enough to scrub off,” she shrugged. “And I would think there would be many people willing to take a gamble with yours.”
“Indeed? Are you saying I’m attractive, Caroline?”
“You are undeniably handsome,” she admitted. “On top of that, you are intelligent, curious, I would guess talented in many different fields.”
“Oh, I am,” he made his voice as suggestive as possible, and felt a moment of victory when her face blushed slightly.
“I think, after some work, you would make some person an excellent partner.”
“Work?”
“Forgiving yourself.”
“What in Hel do I have to forgive myself for?” he snapped, standing up off the table.
“Not being Thor,” she sighed.
Loki felt as though she had slapped him across the face. So, it turned out this doctor was no different than all the rest. She judged him not by who he was, or even who he might be, but by how far he fell from the perfect golden idol that was Thor. Why had he ever expected different?
“No, Loki, wait,” she said quickly, laying a hand on his arm.
Loki stared down, thinking idly that she was touching him precisely where the Frost Giant had all that time ago. Her touch was warm though, and she grasped him gently as though attempting to heal him instead of trying to burn. He could not remember the last time a person had touched him with anything less than thinly contained violence, and he found himself frozen in place.
“You misunderstand,” she continued, looking up at him. “I am not saying that I think you should be like Thor. I think that even trying to be is an error on your part.”
“Because I am so fundamentally lacking?”
“In some ways, but in others you are so fundamentally more. From everything I read about Asgard before seeing you today, and everything you have told me, the social hierarchy sounds like that of a common high school here on Earth. Thor is strong, brash, brave, all those things. But he doesn’t think before he acts. He doesn’t even really believe a person should think first. In a culture that celebrates battles and strength, he shines. He is an instrument as blunt and inflexible as his hammer, and good for similar functions.
“You, on the other hand, are the complete opposite. You are agile, reflexive, fluid, graceful. Your mind is just as much of a weapon as any tangible object, and I would wager much more lethal. You will survive far better than your brother, because you know how and when to swerve or bend but never surrender. The Asgardians, with their black and white mentality, would not be able to see what a great advantage this is.”
“That is true,” he said begrudgingly.
“Now, let’s look at your childhood again. You were brilliant, I assume, from a young age. That would have made your teachers envious, and I can imagine that you did nothing to hide your superiority to them.”
“A God does not hide his gifts.”
“And they are gifts!” she pounced. “So, if your teachers resent you for the most part, and the other children see more value in arms than in books, what then? Your father spent all of your formative years recounting battles to you, it couldn’t help but glorify skills at arms. The entire society you were planted in revolved around them. And you, from before you understood, would have internalized this.
“And then the final knell – Thor is given Mjornir and the crown.”
“That was never in doubt,” Loki lied. He had dared to hope, long ago now, that the throne of Asgard might fall to him. That somehow he could prove to Odin that he was worthy of his pride and love. He had been a fool.
“You might have known intellectually, but it still would have hurt,” she shook her head.
It had hurt more than he cared to remember. The worst was that no one seemed to even consider that he might feel anything other than delighted on his brother’s behalf. He had been happy, in a fashion. He loved Thor back then with an ease that he grieved the lack of now. Still, that one small, kernel of hope had always remained that somehow, he could convince their father that he was not just a spare prince, dark shadow following behind Thor’s gleaming sun.
“What does it matter?” he asked with a sigh.
“It matters! It matters because you matter. Yes, Odin chose Thor. But that is because Odin has no more imagination than your brother. He wants Asgard to continue on as it has always done. In Thor, he has a perfect reflection of himself. He didn’t choose you because you would have tried new things, made improvements, and, yes, mistakes as well. But you would have changed the status quo. You were not less than, Loki. You were unique.”
Loki walked back to the bench, her words echoing in his head. Had he been comparing himself to Thor all this time? He had thought that he had ceased to do so years ago. Still, the constant praise of his brother rang in his ears. The worship in everyone’s eyes all but blinded him. He had tried to see the irony in it all, to see the throngs who followed his brother as lemmings, nuisances at best.
Magic had helped, a little. His mother had done her best to give him something of his own, and he had seized on it with embarrassing eagerness. He could still remember the first time he had faced Thor across the pitch, their father watching expectantly from the sidelines, knowing that he had a new advantage his brother would never possess. It had all gone as usual. Thor had attacked head on while Loki dodged and danced, blades flashing. Then, summoning all of his magical strength, Loki had blurred his image so that Thor was not sure where he truly started and stopped. It was a crude version of a trick he could do without thinking now. It had been enough to confound his brother, who threw himself at the wrong side of Loki and ended up lying face down in the dirt, Loki’s dagger pressed to the back of his neck.
Loki had been ecstatic. Surely, at last, he would hear Odin’s praise. Instead, his father had looked at him coldly from his one good eye, face unpleased.
“Tricks,” he had said. “Unsporting in this sort of battle. I had expected more from you.”
Odin had turned around and walked away, leaving Loki crushed. Frigga had tried to ease his hurt, assuring him that he had done the spell just right, and she was so proud of him, but the damage had been done. He told himself he gave up on trying to win Odin’s approval at that moment, but he knew it was a lie. A part of him wanted it still.
“Tell me what living creature ever dreamed of being unique,” Loki asked quietly. “Unique is just another word for alone.”
“Unique is special,” Dr. Thorpe countered. “Loki, you don’t have to be alone.”
“Would you link yourself to me, Doctor?” he asked, thinking to call her bluff. “There is, after all, very little time left. Would you stay with me until the axe falls, be it tomorrow or the next day?”
“If you wish it,” she surprised him with the answer. “I don’t think the axe has to fall, necessarily, but even if it does, I will be there with you, if you like. As a friend.”
“A friend,” the word tasted strange on his tongue. “Friend to the one who tried to subjugate your kind? Who killed humans without a second thought?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because you are what you were made to be, and no one deserves to be alone.”
“Yet in the end, we are all. And so shall I be.”
“Loki, I will ask you one last time, do you want to die?”
Loki looked at her, truly considering the question for the first time. He did not actively seek out death, not since he had let go of Gungnir a fallen into the abyss. In that moment he had, indeed, longed for an end to all the pain. Instead, the true pain had only just begun. Wincing away from the memory, he brought himself to the present.
No, he did not particularly want to die. He just was not sure he wanted to live. He knew who hunted him, somewhere in the greater galaxy. He had thought he might be safe on Asgard. Surely his father, he had believed, even if he was not so by blood, would take him back rather than leave him to the barbaric Midgardians. An Asgardian jail cell would not be pleasant, but at least it would be marginally safer. Even one as mad as his pursuer would not risk a head on confrontation with Odin AllFather.
It had not happened that way. Odin had washed his hands of his Jotun pawn. Loki was on his own, with nothing standing between him and more of the agony he had endured in his captivity.
“It might be better for all involved were it to be over,” he said at last. “I fear you have wasted your time with me. Let them end it and save yourselves.”
“Save ourselves from what? From you?”
“No, my threat is over.”
“Then what? Loki, what are you afraid of?”
“I told you, I fear nothing!”
Lies, of course.
“I don’t believe you. Everyone has fears.”
“And what are yours?” he asked, suddenly angry at her for making him feel. “Tell me, Caroline, what are your deepest, darkest fears that keep you up at night? Is it loneliness for you, is that why you hope to see it in me? Do you lie there, alone in your bed with no one to care for you? Only your work to keep you warm in the cold hours of the night? Would you cling to me in my uniqueness because you fear to be on your own?”
“In part, yes, probably,” she agreed with him, startling him once again. “I do know what it is like to be different. To keep others at arm’s length. I know what it is to be alone.”
“Well then, shall we comfort each other? You are not uncomely.”
He had meant to intimidate her, to drive her away, but as he drew closer to her, Loki realized that he would not mind spending time with her. She was more attractive than he had made it sound, and he could feel himself responding to her. Against his will, he began imagining her eyes, frank and compassionate, darkened with desire. Or perhaps it was not all his imagination. Her pulse was racing again, and her pupils had dilated as she looked up at him.
“What you suggest would not be appropriate,” her voice was more strained than it had been before.
“Because I am a terrorist?” he murmured, close to her ear.
“Because you are my patient.”
“I politely decline your services, doctor. At least, your professional services. You had said you would keep me company. We could become quite friendly if you desire.”
“I think this is a good time for a break,” she said crisply, standing and smoothing her hands over her skirt.
“I thought you wanted to stay with me,” he smirked.
“We need food,” she told him. “I will go arrange something and be back shortly.
Loki grinned as she hurried from the room, but the humor faded quickly. He had won that round, he believed. So why did the victory feel so hollow?
