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Sam supposed it had probably been inevitable for a while. That did not, he was fairly sure, mean that he had to like it. Meanwhile, though, Thor was shifting awkwardly from foot to foot on the doorstep, and waiting.
Sam sighed. “Loki’s not here,” he said, almost hopefully. “He’ll probably be back in a few hours.”
“I am not here to speak to Loki,” Thor said, after a moment and a rough clearing of his throat. “I wish to speak to you.”
“Oh,” said Sam, wishing he were surprised. He tried to smile. “Yeah? About?”
“May I come in?”
And there was no getting out of it now. Sam swore in the safety of his own head and debated the merits of slamming the door or claiming prior obligation or…
The look on Thor’s face was crushingly hopeful. Sam sighed and stepped back. “Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, sure, come in. Want anything?”
“No,” said Thor, and if his voice was still a dull boom it seemed to be at least trying for subdued. “No, thank you.” He glanced at the couches. “May I sit?”
“No,” said Sam automatically, “We make all our guests stand,” and then realized that Thor was looking at him with something between bewilderment and confusion and added, quickly, “Kidding. Go ahead.” God, Sam thought. How do he and Loki ever talk at all?
Thor settled on one of the couches, his eyes roaming around the apartment. Sam saw his gaze linger briefly on the bookshelves, on one of the prints tacked up, on the whiteboard calendar on the wall. It suddenly all felt unspeakably small and shabby.
“It’s a nice place,” Thor said, politely, with wide-eyed and genuine sincerity. Sam was suddenly almost uncomfortable.
“Um…thanks.”
“I can see Loki being comfortable here. It is so…neat.”
“Hm,” Sam said, awkwardly, suddenly realizing that Thor had likely never been here before. Loki had almost certainly never had him over. “We’re both pretty…particular about things, I guess.” Which was an understatement. Loki had nearly gone through the roof the last time Dean had stayed over and left the silverware door disorganized, and Sam had been known to spend afternoons reorganizing the bookshelves for fun.
Thor fidgeted again, and looked down at his hands clasped between his knees. “I wish to speak to you about Loki,” Thor said, finally.
“I figured that was probably it,” Sam said blandly, though he couldn’t swallow down a slight twinge of uneasiness. Thor glanced at him, and then back down. He seemed to be struggling for the right words, and Sam watched him, unhelpfully.
So maybe he wasn’t feeling all that charitable. Sam was an okay person, but he wasn’t actually as nice a person as people tended to think.
“He will not…he does not speak to me,” Thor said finally, almost plaintively. “Or very seldom, and tells me almost nothing. I…worry.”
Don’t we all, Sam thought, dryly. He shrugged. “Far as I can tell he’s doing fine.” Or as fine as Loki ever was. He was tense and stressed and frequently snippy, but that was Loki, and Sam wasn’t worried yet. He’d get worried when Loki was quiet and withdrawn and didn’t try to bite Sam’s head off in the mornings when his blood sugar was low. Thor fidgeted a little more.
“It is not that I think…it is only that…we used to tell each other everything, and now I find that I know almost nothing of my own brother’s life.” His eyes were pleading. “I was wondering if…”
Yeah, he figured it had been something like that. And honestly…maybe it’d be good, he thought, maybe it’d be helpful, if Loki’s older brother had some kind of clue that he apparently wasn’t getting and Loki wasn’t great about giving. But even as he thought it Sam wanted to snort. Yeah, because getting in the middle of family conflicts always worked so well.
(Jess used to do okay when you and Dean were fighting, came the unwanted reminder, and Sam pushed it away.)
Sam rubbed his forehead. Sighed. Winced. “No,” he said, finally. “No, I can’t do that.” Thor blinked at him.
“I have not…”
“You want me to tell you all about what you’ve missed out on,” Sam said, flatly. “Dish on what Loki’s been up to while you get the silent treatment. Am I right?”
Loki’s brother looked momentarily taken aback, but he squared his jaw, expression only becoming more determined. “It is not – I cannot help if I do not know what he is doing, if I know nothing of his life, and that is all I want, truly,” Thor said, and his voice rose a little, slightly impassioned. Perfectly earnest. His wide blue eyes were open and honest and almost embarrassingly full of emotion. “To help. I thought that you could help me understand, perhaps, he seems very fond of you as he seldom is of anyone-”
“I don’t know what you think I know that you don’t,” Sam said. The anxiety from earlier was now full on nervousness, making his stomach churn, refusing to settle, and that was stupid, this was just a conversation. He didn’t need to get all…overly emotional involved. (Oh, yeah, because he was so good at not doing that.) “You’re his brother. You’ve known him a lot longer, for one thing.”
“But things have changed,” Thor said, “He is different, he used to be so…he was happy.” Or else just doing a good imitation of it, Sam thought bitterly, remembering his own high school years. Keeping the smile up because doing that was easier than people telling you you didn’t have a right to be unhappy. The effort to keep going, it’ll get better, it’ll get better.
Only for Loki, it hadn’t. “Look,” Sam said, and then stopped. And sighed. Thor was looking at him so hopefully and Sam knew it wasn’t fair, that he didn’t have any reason to judge or know any of the facts or anything except Loki’s vague hints and snide remarks and tipsy self-deprecation (Thor was sorely disappointed when I didn’t turn out to be the brother he wanted, I don’t think he’s yet recovered)-
But there was an urge in him nonetheless, a kind of hot protectiveness that made him want to yell, to shove Thor’s puppy face into the mess of Loki that Sam sometimes saw and say look I know you didn’t mean to do it but you did so at least don’t do it again, cause you can’t really fix it I don’t think.
“Please,” Thor said, sounding so heartbreakingly desperate. “I am his brother, surely you don’t think I mean him any kind of harm? I only want to fix him, so please, tell me what you know,” and it was probably nothing, probably just a slip of the tongue.
“Fix him?” Sam said, sharply, and stood up. “Yeah, okay, no. I stand by what I said. No.”
“But why?” Thor demanded, not quite petulant, but Sam could see his surprise. Thor was used to getting his way. The same way Loki was used to getting his, but Thor won by those honest, feeling eyes and Loki bent people around until they didn’t know which way was up, and Loki got just the same surprised look when Sam called him on it. “I don’t understand, is there something I might say to-”
“No,” said Sam flatly. “There isn’t. I’m sorry, Thor. I wish I could help you. But that’s not my job. Helping Loki is.” Don’t be angry, he told himself. This isn’t our issue. You don’t have any right to get angry, Loki can do that just fine on his own.
Thor looked only more confused. “How will speaking with me not-”
“Look,” Sam interrupted impatiently. “You have your friends, right? Who you talk to, who you tell stuff to? I know you do, I met them. They seem like great friends.”
“They are,” Thor said hesitantly. “But what-”
“I’m it,” Sam said. “For Loki. Pretty much. He likes me, like you said. Maybe even kind of trusts me, sometimes, and that’s kind of incredible. And if I talk to you, I’m betraying that trust. I’m taking your side. And I don’t really think Loki’d forgive that, and I’m not going to be the one to screw that up.”
“Taking my side?” Thor sounded incredulous. “What side? There is no side, we are not opponents, this is no battle-”
“You don’t think so,” Sam said, “But I can tell you pretty definitely that – no, I’m not even going to. I’m sorry, okay? If I thought it’d help, but I don’t think it will.”
“Why not?” Thor’s voice rose a little sharply, not quite insulted, but perhaps something like. “Why can I not help, why are you and he both so determined not to let me assist as I might, I do not understand why everything can’t be like it was and why he can’t just be more-” Thor made a frustrated noise, and rocked back against the couch like he wanted to get up. Sam felt himself bristle.
“Can’t be more what,” he asked, flatly, and couldn’t help but think that Loki would have heard the anger underneath. Thor didn’t seem to notice.
“He will not even let me try to apologize!” Thor went on. “And I do not even know what he wants me to apologize for, he seems to manufacture offenses out of thin air, nurtures this grudge past the point of reason!”
“Far as I can tell,” Sam said tightly, “That you don’t know, that’s part of the problem.”
“I swear he will not let himself be happy! That everything would be fine if he were only…if he weren’t so determined to find fault with everything I try, if he were not so stubborn and would simply speak with me, and if I knew how to find the words to fix what is wrong with him-”
And there it was again. Fix. What’s wrong with you, Sam, he heard, and Sam, why aren’t you more like your brother and-
That was it. That was just it. Sure, maybe he was just projecting. Sure, maybe his roommate had major issues and wasn’t always easy to get along with. Sure, maybe it wasn’t any of Sam’s business, but he couldn’t. “Stop,” said Sam, “Just stop. I’m not even your brother, and if this is how you talk to him I honestly can’t blame Loki for giving you the cold shoulder.”
Thor jerked to his feet, hands balling into fists and face like a stormcloud. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“Now listen, okay,” Sam said, and he could hear his voice trying to vibrate and tried desperately not to let it. “Actually listen. Do you really want to fix things with your brother? Really? Or do you just want to feel better about yourself?”
Thor blinked at him, bewilderment momentarily forestalling his rage. “—what? Of course I want to-”
“I don’t know,” Sam interrupted. “Cause it sounds to me like you’re not really interested in what Loki wants. Or what he’s thinking, or what he feels. You just want to know how to get back this picture in your head you have of how things should be, because – because why? Because you miss having him there next to you? Being your sidekick?”
“That’s not,” Thor started to protest, anger guttering further, but Sam bowled right over him.
“Isn’t it? A little bit? You want to go back to the good old days; do you think that’s what Loki wants? Do you even care? Do you want him happy so that he’s happy or so that you don’t have to worry about it anymore? Cause I don’t know, maybe you can’t tell, but there’s a difference. There’s a big difference. And people know, actually, they can tell when they matter and when all that matters is you and what you want and that’s a shitty fucking feeling, okay, knowing that the only reason your happiness matters is because it’s inconveniencing someone else-”
“Sam,” Sam thought Thor tried to say, or maybe something else. Either way, he ignored it.
“You want to get anywhere,” Sam said, almost fuming, “Then maybe you should start actually letting Loki know that you miss him. Not what he was to you or what things used to be like, but him. Maybe then you’ll get somewhere.” He took a deep breath and cut himself off. “I think you should go.”
Thor was staring at Sam like he’d never seen him before. “Yes,” he said slowly, “All right.” He looked troubled, now, all the anger gone, and sad. Sam looked away and tried not to feel like he’d just made things much worse.
“Sorry,” he said again, mumbled, under his breath. Thor shook his head and stepped toward the door.
“No,” he said, slowly. “No, I think…it was good to speak to you, Sam. You are a good friend, and my brother is lucky to have you.”
Sam glanced up sharply in surprise, but the door was already closed, with surprising gentleness, on his back.
Three days, and Sam came back from classes to find Loki curled up in a corner of the couch, tea between his palms and an expression that Sam couldn’t read on his face. He stopped, just inside the doorway, half prepared for the worst.
After a moment, Loki looked up at him, frowning. “I just had the strangest phone message,” he said, quietly. “It was…from Thor.”
Sam hesitated, then crossed the room and sat down, slowly. “Yeah?”
“I wasn’t going to listen to it,” Loki said, eyes drifting away from Sam, almost nervously. “But then I…well. I did. And it wasn’t…” he trailed off, almost seeming awkward. Sam waited, chewed on his lip, and finally asked.
“What’d he say?”
“That he missed me,” Loki said, and then laughed, sharply. “The same thing he always says, whenever he gets the chance. But he didn’t just…he went on for a while, and talked about things that…talked about what he missed for not speaking to me. Little things that he…” Loki trailed off again. He was frowning, and there was something faintly nervous around his eyebrows, but something slightly vulnerable around his mouth.
“That sounds,” Sam said tentatively. “Um. Good? Maybe?”
“It was…” Loki paused, and then nodded, just a little. “I guess. Nice. It was nice.” He got up suddenly and paced over to the kitchen, mumbling under his breath. Sam watched him go and stayed where he was.
Oh, Thor, he thought, almost ruefully, you’re not hopeless.
And let himself be a little proud. Maybe. Just a little.