Chapter Text
Rain beats down on the window, the wind pushing it in at a harsh angle that makes it fall in waves. They roll over a small crack in the bottom right pane and small drops trickle in to collect on the sill. A flash of lightning arcs across the sky and the thunder that follows crashes so hard it makes his entire house shake. Thor smiles at the violence of it, the raw energy. The only thing he prefers about back home is the storms. Seattle’s skies just don’t unleash fury the way a midwestern sky does. He thinks maybe three years have passed since a storm this intense came over the city.
The steady downpour and the dark clouds calm something in his heart, remind him of all the times he escaped a tempest inside his house for the one outside less likely to kill him.
More lightning weaves through the clouds, lighting them up from the inside and leaving their shadows glowing in his vision. His house is silent, his own breath and heartbeat the only other sounds keeping the storm company. Well, that and the creaking of his gutters that he’s been meaning to fix for no less than five months.
Thunder rumbles again and just beneath it he hears the trill of guitar from his phone and checks to see who would be calling him that he doesn’t know. The ID reads Monterrey, California, area code eight three one, but no other details. He stares at it for about ten seconds then picks it up. Worst it might be is a telemarketer. He hopes.
“Hello?” He leans back in his office chair and turns away from his reflection in the sleeping screen of his laptop.
Whoever is calling is outside, because Thor hears the ocean greeting him first.
Then, “hello, Thor.”
His heart pounds and his throat tightens, his stomach flips and he feels dizzy for a moment. Six years. He hasn’t heard Loki’s voice in six years but he knows this is his brother. Loki's voice so much deeper now, he must’ve kept up with the testosterone.
“It’s—”
“Loki?” He doesn’t have to ask, but he can’t help it.
“Yes,” Loki replies, he sounds tired and Thor’s heart aches, “I um… I wasn’t sure who else to call.”
Thor taps the space bar on his keyboard to wake his laptop. “Is something wrong? Do you need help?”
Loki takes a shuddering breath and then he’s crying. He sobs into the receiver and Thor thinks he hears a yes, hears a sorry, hears words garbled by tears and the static of whichever cheap phone his brother is using. What he hears clearly, though, is a very small, high pitched voice speaking underneath Loki’s sobs.
“It’s okay, Daddy!” The little voice says, chipper and sweet, entirely unknowing.
Oh, so that’s what’s happening. Loki doesn’t ask for help. Not for himself.
Thor doesn’t move, he practices the breathing exercise his therapist taught him and waits for Loki to calm. The storm begins breaking up by the time Loki speaks again.
“I need help, Thor. You were the only one I could think to call. I don’t… we don’t have anywhere to stay, we don’t have any food. I don’t know what I’m going to do.” Loki’s voice is raw and breaking around his words. It rips into Thor’s heart and fills his belly with a sick weight that makes him grind his teeth to keep his lunch down.
He could never stand Loki being in pain. “Where are you?”
“I’m in Monterey, California. I’m with my son.” Loki’s tone changes then, something slips over the words, guards them.
Thor wonders what has happened to his brother, how he became a father, why he doesn’t have anyone. But he also doesn’t want to think about it. He’s always had their dad’s temper and the only good thing it ever did for him was protecting Loki.
He pulls up Google and plugs his headphones into his phone jack so he can talk and type more easily. “I’m in Seattle. Do you want to stay in Monterey? I can bring you up here, if you want, or just book you a motel—”
“No! No, I don’t want to stay in a… I mean if you have space and it’s not a burden. He needs a good place to sleep, I think,” Loki says.
Thor brings up flights and times, makes sure he’s selecting for an adult and a child, then checks again that he has a child included, then again. His thoughts remind him that the child is Loki’s son. Loki has a son and Thor wouldn’t have known if he hadn’t heard that tiny little voice chirping out reassurance. Guilt creeps up inside him but he brushes it aside; it’s useless to him right now.
“It’s not a burden, I have a guest room just for this kind of thing. You’re family, remember?” Thor measures his words so they come out with love instead of bitterness.
Loki sobs again.
Thor hears that little voice calling out, "Daddy, I love you! You don't have to cry!"
Loki laughs a bit and Thor feels tears stinging his eyes. Fuck.
"How close are you to the airport, Loki?" Thor finds a non-stop from Monterey to Seattle and hovers his cursor over the checkout button.
"Not very, I think there's a greyhound station not too far from here, though. And I've got twenty dollars to buy some food, I think. Let me, wait, let me count," Loki mumbles.
Thor opens a new tab in his browser. "Do you have a PayPal account? I'll send you money for food."
Loki stops his muttered counting at seventeen and doesn't say anything for a moment, then he clears his throat. "I do. Do you remember my email from high school?"
Thor holds the snarky comment that crops up in his mind and hums the affirmative. He types the email from memory and Loki's name autofills as a contact. He sends four hundred dollars and closes the tab with flights, switching instead to the one with the bus schedule. Loki's phone vibrates as a rumble across the line and Loki gasps.
"Thor!"
Thor buys tickets for the both of them and sits back in his chair. "The bus leaves in ninety minutes if they're on time. It's a twenty-nine hour trip and it has a few stops, but I'll be waiting for you. How many bags do you have?"
There is silence for a moment, then Loki quietly says, "we don't have any bags."
Thor swallows hard and clears his tightness from his throat. "Well that'll make loading the car easier. Do you want to talk?"
Loki sniffs and exhales slowly. "We can talk when I get to Seattle. Right now I just want dinner and to get on the bus so we can get the hell out of this city."
Thor forwards the ticket confirmation to Loki's email and searches for the nearest store with booster seats.
"I'll see you soon, Loki," he promises.
The last time he said those words Loki was gone in the morning.
Six years. And it feels like no time at all.
—
Loki hangs up on his brother and pulls Fenris further into his lap. He's so happy, he thinks this is some kind of adventure Daddy is taking him on. He doesn't know what homelessness is. Maybe he won't remember any of this when he's older. Loki hopes so.
He quickly transfers the PayPal money into his checking account and then texts his bank for his balance. Nothing. Again, and again nothing. On the third text the money is there, so he gathers Fenris onto his hip and stands up. The Greyhound terminal is only two blocks away, so they have some time.
"Daddy, I'm hungry," Fenris says, perching his little head on Loki's shoulder.
God, neither of them have showered in days. They're filthy. Loki walks to the McDonald's across the street and Fenris perks up as they approach.
"Daddy can I have a milkshake?" He clings to Loki's neck, almost strangling him.
Loki rubs his back and feels his ribs too prominently under his skin. "We'll share one. Do you want chocolate?"
Fenris nods his head animatedly and squirms in Loki's grip. It's been months since he was able to spend money on fast food. Air conditioning blasts them when he opens the door, his shoes so worn he can feel it on his toes.
No one pays them any mind as they wait in line. Fenris isn't wearing shoes, but it's not uncommon, Loki reminds himself. Most toddlers hate shoes, so he can pass off not owning any as a fight his son won.
He orders too much food, really, but his stomach is growling and so is Fenris’.
They steal a corner booth and take a little number plaque so the food can be brought out to them. Fenris plays with the touch screen game on the wall and Loki feels relief for the first time in over a year.
Thor answered. Six years of silence after what happened and he still answered.
Loki’s pride kept him from calling the first time they were evicted, and the second. And the third. But his pride is useless if his son wakes up hungry after going to sleep that way.
Thor is so much closer than he realized. Seattle is barely more than a day away. He wonders when his brother finally left, what drove him to it. Everyone has a breaking point, he knows, even someone as endlessly patient as Thor.
The food is set down and Fenris tears into his chicken nuggets with so much enthusiasm Loki can't help laughing.
Fuck his pride. He needs to feed his baby.
—
Thor watches another bus pull in and his stomach flips because this one is Loki's. He bounces on his heels by a phone charging station and watches people slowly file out and gather around the side of the bus to pick up their luggage.
Loki steps off and walks right into the station, nothing on his person except a toddler with curly black hair and brown eyes. The first thing Thor notices is that this child could be Loki's twin if his eyes were green. The second thing he sees is how skinny they both are. Thor forces a smile to mask his concern and pulls his brother into a one armed hug.
Loki returns it and his son joins in, wrapping one skinny little arm around Thor's neck, friendly despite Thor being a total stranger to him.
Thor pulls back and smiles at the boy. "So who's this?"
Loki looks at his son and grins, something warm and sweet, unguarded in a way Thor remembers and misses.
"This is Fenris. Fen, sweetie, say hello to your Uncle Thor." Loki gestures to him with one hand.
Fenris beams at him with a gappy smile and waves. "We showered in McDonald's!"
Thor laughs and raises a brow, looks at his brother and loses his smile when he sees shame clear on Loki's face. Oh.
He clasps Loki's shoulder and nods his head towards the parking lot. "Let's go back to my place."
Thor feels like he’s walking through a dream. How many times has he had this dream, actually? How many nights did he see Loki’s face, different in ways he couldn’t predict, only to wake up and face another day, week, month, or year where they still hadn’t spoken to each other? Yesterday afternoon doesn’t feel real yet. None of this does.
Loki follows him to his car and stops when he looks in the back seat. "You have a booster seat?"
Thor rubs the back of his neck and realizes this seat might actually be too big for Fenris.
"Yeah I didn't know how old he was so I got the one for four and five year olds. You said you didn't have anything and we can't just put him in the seat by himself, I just thought…" His sentence dies and he finishes by clearing his throat and unlocking the door.
Loki buckles Fenris in and closes the door again, then he stands still for a moment, eyes fixed on nothing with his hand resting on the roof of the vehicle.
Thor sighs and pulls him into a hug. He feels Loki sobbing more than hears it.
"I'm here, little brother, it's going to be alright now, I've got you," Thor promises.
Loki's arms wrap around him and hold on too tight but he doesn't mind. Anything that can convince him this isn’t a dream is something good.
After a moment Loki pulls back and wipes his eyes. "I'm so tired of crying."
Thor wants to kiss him, even just on the forehead maybe, but he doesn't know if it would be welcome. He settles for brushing a tear off of Loki's cheek and smiling with as much warmth as he has inside him.
"You hungry? I've got leftovers." Thor goes to the driver side and waits until Loki opens his door to sit down.
Loki buckles himself in and reclines the seat a little, just enough that Fenris' kicking legs don't quite reach him. He didn’t even look into the backseat to do it, and it warms Thor to know that Loki wasn’t completely alone before now.
"I'm hungry!" Fenris says, looking between them with bright eyes.
Thor already loves him. His nephew.
"Well, I have some spaghetti, or I have Chinese food if you want," he offers.
Fenris purses his lips and looks at Thor with the kind of concentration only Loki has ever given him.
Then he smiles and bounces in the booster seat. "Spaghetti!"
Loki chuckles and looks at Thor. If he sounded tired on the phone it's nothing compared to seeing him now. Not even thirty but there are almost as many gray hairs as black on Loki's head, and his wrinkles aren't deep but they're visible. The only thing that ages a person that quickly is stress. He can't ask what happened yet, not here. But there's one thing he can do.
"I love you, Loki. Thank you for calling me," he whispers.
Loki's face breaks into shock and even though he said he’s tired of crying his eyes water. “Thank you for answering. I didn’t even know if that would still be your number.”
Thor debates the risk of being honest for a moment, then throws his caution aside and admits, “I made sure to keep it so you could reach me if you needed me.”
Loki’s mouth pulls into a frown and his lower lip wobbles. “Please don’t make me cry.”
Thor smiles apologetically and takes Loki’s hand, feels the warmth and the way his knuckles bulge too much on his fingers. “You’ll have to eat the leftover Chinese since Fen called dibs on the spaghetti.”
Loki laughs and squeezes his hand. “I think I’ll manage.”
Thor doesn’t want to gamble too much today, so he doesn’t kiss Loki’s hand like he wants to. He simply lets go and starts the car.
—
Thor’s car is the nicest place they’ve stayed in months and they’ve only been inside it for twenty minutes.
He watches the city slide by under a constant drizzle. Little drops build up on the window and collect into bigger ones that move with the wind, crawling sideways in lazy paths. The radio is on some local top forty station and he hears Fenris singing along with the songs using his own made up lyrics. If he never does anything else right he can at least find peace in his son’s happiness.
Thor turns into a suburb filled with more trees than houses. Cars are parked on either side of the street and the homes all look cozy, just enough room on either side of them so they don’t feel stacked on top of each other. The neighborhood is a mix of brick and siding. Loki notices a house where someone painted over their brick, their home a nice sage green that blends in with all of their shrubs.
Loki hasn’t been in a neighborhood this nice since he lived at home. He worried about Thor sending him four hundred dollars, but he knows now that he shouldn’t have. Clearly Thor’s doing just fine.
There are kids running through the street, all of them older than Fenris, but they wave to him when the car rolls buy. A few say hello to Thor, too, and Loki watches his brother greet them in return, some of them by name. He’ll make such a good father. Loki never cared about that when he was younger, never noticed it, but now it’s the first thing he notices about people.
They roll through another stop sign and Loki watches the kids resume playing behind them in the side mirror. Fenris will start school soon, or at least he should. Loki hasn’t had time to think about enrolling him in a pre-k program. He doesn’t want to think about how long he and Fenris will be staying with Thor; if it’s worth it to look around in this district and plan for a future here.
Thor stops in front of a house and then backs into the driveway, parking right at the end of it. His house is set on a steep slope, though Loki can't actually see it through all of the trees and bushes.
Fenris yawns and Loki realizes it's almost time for a nap. They need to get inside and eat so he can sleep. Loki tries to angle his head to see Thor's house as he exits the car and pulls his son out, but all he can see are two or three bricks between shifting leaves.
He follows Thor up the drive to the house and can't help the way his mouth falls open when he finally sees it.
The detached garage and house are both deep red brick, connected by an archway that leads to a little path between the buildings. It's lined with hostas sending up eager white flowers and in the back Loki sees a gate to the backyard.
"Wow!" Fenris says, "this is pretty! Do we live here now?"
Loki looks at Thor and sees a bashful little smile knocking years off of him. He shrugs one shoulder, like this could be Loki's choice; like sane people invite an estranged sibling they haven't spoken to in over half a decade to just live with them, like the reason they became estranged isn't enough to destroy what's left of their family.
Thor hasn't changed, not where it counts.
If they go through the front door, he has the sinking feeling they won't ever leave.
Keys jingle in Thor's hand and Loki hears the door stick to the frame as it opens. He lingers for a moment, then Fenris' stomach growls and he walks in.
The living room is tidy, he notes, but still lived in. Some mail on the TV stand, a throw blanket wrinkled on the couch cushions, coasters lying in random spots. The furniture doesn't have weird stains or rips and the floor is a beautiful hardwood. This is better than the house they grew up in.
The microwave starts up in the kitchen just beyond the living room and Loki walks toward the sound. Thor's broad back blocks half the counter. He looks almost comically large in a space built for normal people.
Loki sits at a small dining table next to a window and looks at the wall of hydrangeas in Thor's backyard. A privacy fence frames them, the wood dark from rainfall but not rotting. This entire neighborhood has money.
He realizes with a start that he doesn't even know what Thor does for a living.
Something that lets him have long hair, it seems.
The timer goes off and Thor brings the leftover pasta with meat sauce on a plate. There are pieces of bacon in it the way their mother used to make it when they were children. Loki wishes as he always does that Frigga had lived long enough to meet Fenris. She was always more his mother than the woman who gave birth to him.
At least she would call him her son.
Loki chops the spaghetti into small pieces with the fork Thor gave them and feeds Fenris little bites until the plate is empty and his head is nodding.
Thor warms up the Chinese in the meantime, giving him a moment to lay his son down on the living room couch.
The plate is in the sink by the time he returns.
They haven't been alone in more than six years, but here they are.
Thor takes measured bites of Szechuan chicken but Loki can hear his questions in the silence.
"I gave birth to him," he says, "I fell behind on my hormones and ended up pregnant. I knew I wanted to keep him, so I stopped hormones for a while, took prenatals, started doing research… then four months in Fenris' other father says he doesn't want a baby, so I need to leave."
Thor has stopped eating, he just pushes his food around with his chopsticks.
Loki shrugs. "If he didn't want us that was fine. The hazard of being with someone you don't love, I guess, is they don't have to love you either. I got a job at a gas station, then I lost it, tried an agency but they wouldn't take someone like me. They said placing a trans man is hard enough, let alone when she's pregnant."
"Jesus Christ," Thor mutters as he sets his utensils down. He scrubs a hand over his face and looks out the window.
He's still so handsome.
"I was alone when I gave birth to him. They tried to keep him, actually. But I wasn't on anything and I had a place to live at that time. I threatened to sue them, which was a hilarious threat when I didn't even have money for gas. You know it cost twenty thousand dollars to give birth in a hospital that almost stole my son from me?" Loki lets out a bitter laugh, feels the wave of pain rising in him.
He hates feeling safe because it just makes him want to talk.
Thor is quiet, good quiet. He knows how to really listen to someone and Loki realizes he hasn't had this in as long as he's been gone.
Thor looks at him, then glances to the living room. "So, Fenris? After Hela's dog?"
Loki frowns, pain shoots through his stomach sharp and hot. "That dog saved my life when Odin was beating me bloody."
Thor lifts his hands up, then drops then onto the table. "I wasn't… I was just curious. I loved that dog, too."
"Convenient how it ran away after it bit the old bastard." He licks the inside of his teeth and tries to let go of the memory, but he’s never been comfortable with leaving his pain behind.
Thor sighs. "Yeah. Hela knew what he did."
Loki nods and watches tiny birds hop through Thor's grass. "And then she…"
Thor swallows audibly. "And then she."
Loki hates how much of his life is still about a dead man.
Thor clears his throat and says, "I spread her ashes in the Pacific. I stole the urn from Dad's."
Loki's brow furrows and he tilts his head. "Why?"
Thor meets his eye and smiles so soft it makes Loki ache. "Calmer than the Atlantic."
Loki deflates in his chair and he knows now, truly, that he and Fenris aren't leaving.