Chapter Text
Loki couldn’t stop the images from flashing through his mind, no matter how deep he sank under the bath water.
Being captured by the TVA. Being shown his mother’s death, his father, his own death. He tried to focus on Mobius’ kind face, on his words - is he asking if he believes he deserves to be alone? Or telling him he doesn’t see him as a villain? - but it slid into watching him being pruned too fast. Sylvie. Infuriating, broken, beautiful Sylvie, betraying him. He knew the image of her laughing at him for even thinking about trusting her wasn’t real, but that didn’t stop him from focusing on it anyway. His lungs and brain screamed at him to come up for air but he stubbornly pushed the feeling into the background as he braced his hands on the side of the tub, forcing himself to stay down.
His brother crying over his body. Telling Frigga she wasn’t his mother, apparently the last words she ever heard from him. Coming back to an alternate TVA, to a Mobius with the same kind face but no memory of who Loki was. He Who Remains. Thor telling him he thought the world of him. A vision of Thor as a child, boasting about being king, while Loki watched enraptured, desperately wanting to be just as strong and sure of himself as his brother. The alternate TVA hunters chasing him across the universes, Not-Mobius never far behind. Sitting with Sylvie under a blanket on a hill in the Void. Sneaking into Fandral’s room and into his bed, the warrior’s hands warm in contrast to Loki’s always cold skin. Should have known you were Jotun. His Mobius hugging him. Odin telling him his true nature. The monster parents tell their children about at night. The hunters kicking open the downstairs door, shouting -
Damn it, Loki swore to himself as he surfaced with a gasp, the black that had begun to overtake his vision receding. He scrambled out of the tub, magically drying and clothing himself with a twitch of his shoulders, and checked the TemPad. Almost dead. He cursed to himself again, and tossed it across the room, shattering it against the wall. He closed his eyes, and began teleporting haphazardly across the earth, never staying in one place more than a few seconds - try to follow this, miserable creatures - until his feet hit gravel or beach and he stumbled. He inhaled sharply and opened his eyes, looking around him. A marina of some sort; the smell of fish and saltwater hung on the air. He had lost count of how many times he’d teleported, and his limbs shook, heavy with the burden of how much magic he’d burnt through. Okay. Rest here a moment. He sank to the ground, looking over the bay in front of him. Rest and then walk into the bay. It’ll be easy. No one will find you here. He pulled his knees up to his chest and rested his chin on them, surely looking as miserable as he felt. The sun began to set, casting the sky in a glorious cacophony of reds, oranges, and purples, the palette pricking his interest slightly. A bit of beauty before the end. At least this universe would give him that.
“Hey. Are you okay?” The man’s voice behind him startled him; so wrapped up in his misery and the sunset, he hadn’t heard him walk up.
“If I’m trespassing, I apologize, I’ll move along in a min-“ The words died on his tongue as Loki looked back into the most beautiful face he’d ever seen. The man’s sky blue eyes were full of concern, and the light bounced off his cheekbones and his jawline and highlighted his short brown hair. He looked like a painting. “In a moment,” he finished quietly, quickly facing forward so the man wouldn’t notice the flush in his cheeks.
“Nah you’re not really trespassing, this just isn’t the safest place to be, and there’s been a history …” He didn’t finish the sentence, but Loki could guess what he would have said.
“I’m okay,” Loki said. There was a silence behind him, punctuated by the barest sound of a finger being tapped rhythmically against a thigh, that told him the man didn’t believe him in the slightest.
“Okay,” he said finally. “Well, if you change your mind, I’m just on that boat over there, the Red Star. If you wanna talk, or at least don’t want to be alone. I have whiskey.”
“Thank you,” Loki said, looking back a bit shyly. The man’s face was awash in a golden glow from the intensifying sunset, making him look even more like a work of art. He smiled, sending a new wave of shivers in Loki’s stomach, and started to walk away.
“My name’s Bucky by the way,” he called back.
Strange name for such a gorgeous man. Loki shook his head, and looked out to the water again. Pity. In another lifetime, another universe, he would have liked to know more about him.
He felt the sizzle of magic before he heard it. Frowning, he squinted towards the boat Bucky had motioned to, and saw a dark-skinned man with long dreadlocks on the deck. For half a second, he thought it was Heimdall, until the voice floated back to him on the breeze.
“Where is Loki?”
He frowned deeper and slid into near invisibility, carefully making his way closer to the boat. Not Heimdall’s voice. Not Heimdall at all, he noted as he got closer. He had never seen this man before in his life, nor did he remember seeing him in any of the memories the TVA had shown him. He wasn’t dressed like a hunter, either.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Bucky’s voice was very calm and steady, but he was keeping his body very taut, subtly keeping it facing towards the man as he paced back and forth on the deck. Even Loki could feel the man’s piercing stare from several feet away.
“I know he is here, I felt the energy from his magic. Faint, but it’s here.”
“Look, I’ve never met the guy or spoken to him in my life. I’ve barely even said five words to Thor. They were back on Asgard by the time I came out of cryo,” Bucky said. He cocked an eyebrow. “Besides, isn’t he dead? Killed by Thanos?” Loki winced at the memory of watching that moment on the TVA screen. The other man’s eyes darkened.
“He has a remarkable ability to keep popping up, like a cockroach,” he said. Bucky said nothing, but he had dropped all pretense of affability from his facial expression. The man held out a card. “If you see him or speak with him, you will contact me immediately.” Loki held his breath as Bucky’s entire demeanor changed in an instant at the demand. Instead of leaning casually on the door frame, he stood straight, squaring his shoulders and flexing his left hand. His face went from unfriendly straight to furious, as he gave the card a slow glance without moving to take it, and then looked back up to glare in the man’s face with unblinking eyes.
“I can’t help you,” he said softly, and it was more of a dire threat than anything Loki had ever said in his life. The man stood his ground for a moment, but he was clearly unnerved. He sighed and turned around holding his hands out, creating a circular portal, the outline of it sizzling like fireworks. He made to step through, then turned back, his face pinched.
“Whatever you think you are protecting, it is not worth it,” he said. He gave one last glance around and then stepped through, the portal disappearing behind him. Loki let out a breath and then held it as he slowly crept up onto the boat and into the main cabin behind Bucky. Though he didn’t move, Loki could tell by the extremely subtle movements in his head, neck, and arms that he knew Loki was there. He regarded Bucky warily as the man turned around, the furious look on the man’s face replaced by one of calm curiosity.
“You didn’t have to lie about me.”
“I wasn’t 100% sure you were who I was talking to, and besides I don’t trust that guy,” Bucky said.
“You shouldn’t trust me either.” Bucky didn’t say anything to that for a moment, simply regarded Loki with that unblinking stare, his body back to being taut and ready but with a veneer of nonchalance.
“Yeah well, between the guy who just lands on my boat deck, demanding information on someone I’ve never met, and the guy who shows up miserable on the beach but politely offers to leave, I’ll take my chances with you,” Bucky said, smirking. Loki narrowed his eyes at the word miserable, not appreciating being called out, even if it was the truth. His smirk relaxed into a kinder smile, weariness tugging at the corners of his eyes, and he carefully moved to a cabinet and pulled out two glasses.
“It’s okay,” he said, pouring whiskey into the glasses. “I was brainwashed and mind wiped for twenty years, and then spent another fifty years as HYDRA’s top assassin against my will, I know all about miserable.” Loki frowned, adding it up in his head. The man didn’t look any older than his late 30’s.
“That would make you a hundred plus years old,” he said.
“A hundred and seven.” He said it matter-of-factly, as if this was completely normal for a Midgardian. He smiled at the look of surprise on Loki’s face, and handed him a glass.
“You’re terribly handsome for a centenarian.”
“And you’re awfully pretty for a corpse.” Bucky grinned as the barest hint of a smile tugged at the corners of Loki’s mouth. “Was that almost a smile I got out of you?” He laughed as Loki forced his face into a glare and shook his head slightly. “So how are you alive, anyway?”
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” Loki said.
“Try me.” It wasn’t as big of a threat as the one he’d told the magician, but Loki still felt the undercurrent of danger.
“I think I’d rather hear your story, first.”
“Get me to open up, see if you can trust me, see what my vulnerabilities are,” Bucky said, nodding. “Smart.” I know, Loki wanted to say, but he stayed quiet as Bucky motioned to the chair opposite him at a small table. “So. I was born in 1917. Grew up in Brooklyn.”
And so he told Loki the story of growing up the best friend of Captain Steve Rogers, being drafted into the army, being lost and experimented on until he was saved by Rogers, only to be lost again when he fell off a train and lost an arm. Loki eyes flickered to his left arm in confusion. Bucky smiled, and as he took off his gloves and shrugged out of his leather jacket, Loki understood why he wore them in the warm air in the first place. His left arm was made out of a smooth dark metal shot through with lines of gold, the plates making a soft hum as he shifted the arm and flexed the fingers.
“It’s vibranium,” he said. “This one I got in Wakanda, before the fight with Thanos. I originally had a cybernetic arm from HYDRA.”
As Bucky continued his story, Loki could tell by the clipped sentences about his capture, years of torture and experimentation, and his time as the Winter Soldier that there was quite a bit he was leaving out. He was enraptured nonetheless, and didn’t doubt a word of the man’s story. He could tell just by the way he held his body and the way his eyes didn’t miss a single detail that he was well trained.
“The serum is what makes you long lived?” Loki asked as Bucky wrapped up his story with his release from the brainwashing courtesy of Wakanda’s scientists, and a brief mention of the fight with Thanos.
“That and being held in cryogenic sleep between missions,” Bucky said dryly. He smiled again and refilled Loki’s glass before his own. Loki nodded his thanks, his brow furrowing a bit. “What?” Loki opened his mouth and stopped, then started again with a twinkle in his eye.
“How exactly does a trained master assassin get a name like ‘Bucky’?” he asked. Bucky laughed.
“It’s a nickname,” he said. “My full name is James Buchanan Barnes. My sister shortened Buchanan to Bucky when I was a kid.” He shrugged. “It stuck.” He gave Loki an even look as he chuckled. “Your turn,” he said.
Loki gave him a look, and then sighed and launched into his own tale, from stealing the Tesseract after New York to the TVA, meeting Mobius and Sylvie, and the whole saga of the Void and He Who Remains. Much as Bucky had, he carefully left out certain details, though he found he couldn’t help his affection for Mobius spilling out. He could see Bucky make a silent note of that, but he said nothing about it.
“So now this alternate TVA is hunting you?” Bucky asked. Loki nodded. “And that guy looking for you earlier?”
“I’ve never met him, that I know of,” Loki said. “He doesn’t look like anyone from the TVA, but I can’t imagine what he would want from me.”
“Mm he made the same portals as Dr. Strange,” Bucky said. Loki cocked his head, images of his alternate self’s brief meeting with the supposed Sorcerer Supreme flitting across his mind. “At any rate, what’s the chance of these hunters showing up here?”
“Hopefully not any time soon,” Loki said. “I lost count after several hundred teleports, and whenever I paused, I set up an illusion. If they do what I hope they’ll do, and pause to investigate every magic signature, I’ve got a couple days at least.”
“So we have some time,” Bucky mused. Loki stared at him, eyes narrowed.
“We?”
“Look,” Bucky said. “My buddy Sam is an Avenger, took up the shield. He’d be able to get a hold of Strange, who might be able to help with both issues.”
“I appreciate your concern but-“ Bucky held up his hand, cutting him off.
“Come back tomorrow afternoon,” he said. “I can ask Sam to come around, and we can fill him in. At least consider it,” he added as Loki tried to protest again. “I can just ask him to come look at the boat, so if you decide not to come, there’s no pressure. Although,” he said wincing, “if you do that at least find a way to let me know you’re okay.” Loki stared at him in surprise, then slowly nodded.
“I’ll consider it,” he said.
“Good,” Bucky said. “Do you have a place to stay?”
“I’m sure I can find someplace.”
“There’s a place down the road looking for boarders,” Bucky said. He grabbed a notepad and scribbled down an address.
“Thank you,” Loki said, taking the note. He drained his glass and set it down, the emotional and physical expenditure of the day suddenly weighing on him. “I think I should probably check it out.” Bucky nodded and followed him out to the boat deck, watching as Loki stepped up onto the dock.
“Loki,” Bucky said. He stopped and looked down onto the boat, where the man’s face was illuminated by moonlight, causing an ache deep in Loki’s gut.
“Yes?”
“Do me a favor and stick around a little while longer.” There was a layer of emotion to the words that told Loki he didn’t just mean in town. “I’d hate for this to be the only drink we have together.” Loki couldn’t stop the smile that spread onto his face.
“Good night, Sargent Barnes,” he said. Bucky nodded at him as he conjured a hood on his coat and put it up around his face. He could feel the man’s eyes on him as he disappeared down the street, but he didn’t dare look back as he melted into the shadows.
He found the address Bucky had written down and procured a room, touching the old man’s wrist lightly when he asked for payment.
“Okay you’re all set,” the man drawled, handing him a key. Loki smiled to himself. He wasn’t anywhere near as good at enchanting as Sylvie, but at least he’d picked up a couple tricks from her.
The room was sparse but clean, with very little decoration. He caught sight of the tub in the bathroom and grimaced as he sat on the bed, turning around to look out the window, which looked out onto the bay he was going to disappear into. He could feel a panic rising in the back of his throat as he quickly turned to face the wall, the bare dingy whiteness of it seeming as if it were closing in on him. No, he thought as he jumped to his feet and started nervously pacing, trying to calm himself. His vision became a merry-go-round of the tub, the bay, and the walls, tub, bay, walls, tub bay walls tubbaywalls until he thought he was going to be sick and crumpled to the floor with a gasp. Holding his head in his hands, forehead to the carpet, he tried to breathe.
In. Out. In. Out. Lord even the carpet smells like saltwater. He sat up with a shaky breath and crawled to the window, looking towards the docks. He could see the Red Star, see that the lights were still on. Weakling. He pushed the thought down and struggled to his feet, even as it clawed its way to the surface again. Weak, pathetic fool. Shut up. Thor wouldn’t be like this. Loki swore to himself as he swept out of the room, not even bothering to lock the door behind him, and rushed out of the building.
The night had grown cooler, and Loki wrapped the hood tighter around his face out of habit more than comfort. His consciousness continued to deride him even as he stumbled down the road, his feet trying to go faster than his muscles would let him. He paused in front of the Red Star, and looked up and down the road. No one else was out this late; no other boat had its lights on. He took a deep breath and held it as he reached out and knocked lightly on the door, and took a nervous step back. Idiot. Within a moment the door opened and Bucky frowned at him, whiskey glass in one hand and his left arm hidden behind the door.
“Loki?”
He had tried to think about what he was going to say, in between his mind yelling at him, but between his exhaustion and panic what ended up jumbling out of his mouth was the truth: “I don’t think I can be alone tonight.” He felt as surprised as Bucky looked, but the look barely lasted a second. His face set in both understanding and determination as he opened the door wider and ushered him in.