Chapter Text
Peter should be used to death by now.
His parents had died when he was young, and he barely remembered them. But Uncle Ben… He was old enough to remember. He wasn’t sure he’d ever forget. The worst part was that he could have prevented it. He could have saved his Uncle if he had just chosen to put his feelings aside and do the right thing.
But he hadn’t. And now Uncle Ben was gone and there was a hole in his and Aunt May’s lives, one that couldn’t ever be replaced.
Yes, he should be used to death. He wasn’t.
Peter stared at his phone screen, considering the text from Ned.
Ned: Hey Man, I heard about Loki and everything. Mr. Stark told me. Which is really cool, by the way, but… Are you okay?
No. No he wasn’t okay. Peter sighed, typing out a reply. Ned had bombarded his phone with texts asking if he was okay, and Peter knew he deserved an answer. Ned was just worried about him, he should know that Peter was fine. Well, as fine as he could be, anyway.
Peter: I’m alright. I’m completely healed, anyway, no pain at all. There’s a scar, but other than that, nothing.
Ned: Sure, sure, that’s great, but are you okay?
Peter: I’m fine, Ned.
Ned: Is it true about Loki?
Peter blinked at the phone, debating whether or not to answer. Answering the question would make it real, and he wasn’t sure he was ready for that. Sighing, he shut his phone off and tossed it off the side of his bed. He would deal with it later.
He rolled over, pulling his blankets tighter around him. Lately it seemed he was always cold.
Loki had healed him three days before, but Mr. Stark hadn’t let him out of the tower until that morning, mostly because Aunt May demanded him to let Peter come home. She was right, the cold, impersonal hospital wasn’t doing Peter any good, and he wasn’t hurt anyway.
Loki had made sure of that.
Peter let out a soft groan – not too loud, May was right next door – and rolled over again, reaching over the side of the bed and groping around for his phone. He opened pictures and scrolled through the recents.
He hadn’t known Loki for very long, only three weeks, but Peter felt like he had come to know Loki, the real Loki, not the persona he liked to put up around other people.
They hadn’t taken many pictures, since Loki had been locked up in a cell for most of the time, but they had taken a few. The picture Peter had stopped at was from the day he,
Loki, and Ned had hung out, the night that he had asked Loki if they could be brothers. Ned had taken the picture, and though it was a little blurry, Peter didn’t mind.
In the picture, Peter was lying on his hospital bed, propped up by pillows. Loki was sitting at the foot of the bed, manacled hands held out in front of him. It was clear that he was gesturing animatedly, and his face shone with excitement. Peter was grinning at him, affection clear in his large brown eyes.
Peter scrolled ahead to the next picture. He and Loki were still on the bed, but this time they were both laughing at some dumb joke Peter had made. Loki’s head was tipped back in a hearty laugh, and a look of pure happiness was written all over his features. Peter had only gotten to see Loki laugh a few times, and each time it was like watching the sun break through a heavy layer of clouds.
A tear rolled down his face as he scrolled on. He would never get to see that laugh again. Never get to hear Loki’s smooth voice in conversation, regaling him with vibrant stories
of his and Thor’s childhood. He would never get to meet Loki’s piercing gaze and vivid green eyes, eyes that were cold and hard to everyone but Peter.
Peter shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. He needed to go to bed, he hadn’t gotten much sleep the last few nights.
Ned: Peter? Are you okay?
Ned: Pete?
Ned: Dude, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bring up bad feelings.
Ned: Forgive me, please.
Ned: Peter, are you ignoring me?
Ned: Should I stop texting you?
Ned: I can stop if you want.
Ned: But I just want you to know that I'm here for you.
Ned: Pete?
Peter: Yeah. About Loki. It’s true.
***
“Can’t it wait?” Thor stood in the middle of the training grounds, glowering at the servant boy. Sweat and dirt glistened off his back, and he was still catching his breath from the sparring match he had just finished. “Can’t you see I’m in the middle of something? The score is two-one, to Hogun. I can’t let him beat me!”
“I’m sorry, your highness,” The servant said, glancing nervously toward Thor’s sword. “But it’s urgent.”
Thor sighed. Of course it was. It was always urgent. “Alright. Hogun, we’ll have to pick this up another day.”
Hogun shrugged. “Fine by me. Don’t forget that I’m winning.”
“I won’t.” Thor grinned and rolled his eyes. It was good to be home. He threw his tunic over his head and tossed his sword to Hogun to put away, then turned to follow the servant. What the urgent matter was, he hoped to have it cleared up soon. The servant left him at the door to his Father’s private study, and Thor knocked before entering.
Frigga, Odin, and Heimdall were all there, seated around the Hearth.
Thor frowned. That was odd. Heimdall never left his post.
“Thor.” Heimdall’s voice sounded off, gruff and low in ways that were unlike him. The first dredges of unease settled in Thor’s stomach. What was going on? “Please, sit.”
“What’s this all about?” Thor asked as he took a seat next to Frigga.
“Yes, Heimdall, what is this about?” Odin sounded exasperated. So whatever news Heimdall had, he hadn’t already told the King and Queen.
“I am sorry for what I have to tell you,” Heimdall said, hunching forward in his seat ever so slightly and folding his hands in his lap. Thor’s unease grew. “I have been monitoring Loki for some time now. He has hidden himself from my sight, but I can see him through other’s eyes.”
Ah. So this was about Loki, then.
Thor sighed. “What has he done now? He has not hurt any of my friends, I hope.”
“No, my prince, nothing like that.” Heimdall wouldn’t meet Thor’s gaze, instead staring into the flickering firelight. “Loki is… Well…”
“Heimdall.” Frigga’s voice was gentle, and held a note of understanding that was so like her. “It’s okay,”
“No. It’s not.” Heimdall nearly choked on the words, and the unease in Thor’s chest blossomed into full on dread. What had happened to his brother?
Odin’s voice was as cold and hard as ever. “Speak, Heimdall.”
“He’s dead.”
There was silence.
The words hung in the air, heavy and terrible.
No. That wasn’t right. Loki wasn’t dead. He was a trickster, he played pranks all the time. Surely this was a trick? And Heimdall could've been wrong, he said himself he couldn’t
see Loki. Yes, this was all a big misunderstanding. He and Loki would have a good laugh about this when Thor told him. He could already hear his brother’s laugh ringing in his
ears, hearty and full of life.
Frigga sobbed. Thor looked at her in surprise. Surely she hadn’t missed the trick? She knew Loki just as well as he did, she’d know that he was wily enough to escape death. He’d done it before, he’d do it again.
“Mother, don't cry, Loki isn't dead, this is all a trick.” He gave her a reassuring smile, wrapping one arm around her shoulders. “He's too wily to die, it seems like. Don't worry about him.”
Frigga shook her head, tears streaming down hard face. “No, Thor, you don't understand.”
Thor huffed. “I understand plenty.”
“Not about this.” With some effort, Frigga reigned in her emotions, the tears slowing, but not stopping.
Heimdall leaned forward, eyes heavy with grief. “I'm sorry. Would you wish for me to tell you how he died?”
“Yes.” Frigga nodded. Thor glanced over at his father. Surely Odin would set the record straight? But Odin showed no sign of interest. His face was cold as stone.
“He died saving a young boy, Peter, from a dark curse.”
“Peter?” The name sounded vaguely familiar, and Thor frowned, trying to remember where he had heard the name before. “Oh! Peter is the spider-child who Loki took such a liking to!” He grinned, then Heimdall’s words sunk in. “Wait, you truly mean this?”
Heimdall nodded. “I’m sorry, my prince, but Loki is gone.”
“No.” Thor tore his arm from around his mother, all but jumping to his feet. “No, this can’t be right. Loki wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t give up his life for someone else. You have to be lying.” Loki was far too selfish to willingly give up his life just to save another. He would never do that… Would he? Thor hesitated. How well did he really know his brother?
He shook his head. He had to believe that this was a trick. Otherwise, well… He couldn’t accept what that would mean.
“I swear to you, I am not lying.” Heimdall’s voice was grave, and his gaze was steady as he held Thor’s accusatory glare. “I wish I was.”
“Thank you for telling us,” Frigga said, rising to stand beside Thor.
“Yes. You have done your duty well.”
Thor started. He had nearly forgotten Odin was still there.
“I shall return to my rooms now.” Frigga moved to leave, and Odin followed her. Or, at least, he tried to. “No.” Frigga put up a hand to stop him. “Please, give me some time.”
Odin inclined his head. “Of course.”
Thor was rather confused. Why would his mother need space instead of comfort? He banished the thought. She just wanted time to grieve, that was all. Not that he believed Loki was dead, of course.
Thor made a split-second decision. “Heimdall, send me through to Midgard. I will prove that Loki is not dead after all, only playing one of his many tricks.”
“If you wish.” Heimdall didn’t seem convinced. Of course. Thor thought. Loki somehow fooled Heimdall. Whatever illusion he used must have been very convincing.
“I do,” Thor said with a firm nod. “I shall find Loki, I swear it.”