pirateangelbaby | Admitting You Have a Problem

He'd been doing so well before all this. Or at least he thought he had. He'd stopped stashing ale and mead in his living room by the barrel, spent less time drinking and more time going outside and actually trying to tackle the mountain of paperwork that's been building up in the administrative center, even if he hadn't gotten very far. Sure, he'd still drank, but more out of habit than the need to do something, anything with himself. He'd started to get his life back, little by little, struggling to find a new normal and establishing a new routine.

But then Loki left, and there's been no word since.

The children are a delight to have around, and there are times when he feels it's easier to rally himself for their sake, to make sure they're fed and bathed and cared for. As have the ravens, who are growing like mischievous little weeds, both reliant on him and yet also soothing him at times when he is feeling low, hopping into his lap and insisting on being stroked and pampered.

But he is making it up as he goes along. He doesn't know what he's doing, or how much longer he'll need to pretend that he does. And now that he's paying attention, he can tell that there is something still wrong with him, because he's going through his reserves much faster now than he was a few months ago. And he doesn't want to know what will happen if he runs out.

The children are safely under Solvi's watchful eye, under the pretense of helping her around the house while she cares for her baby. Huggan and Miskunn are napping atop a bookshelf, and Thor carefully closes the door behind him as quietly as he can when he leaves. If he's fortunate, maybe he'll be back before they awaken, and they won't scold him for venturing out without them.

By now, he knows his way to the Viper's Pit well. One of the only Nexus establishments to serve drinks strong enough for gods, it's been his primary companion on his descent into his illness, and the steps he's taken to struggle back up. Thor hopes that the other Loki hasn't noticed how many of those barrels have been being shipped to Asvera; he's tried to avoid being there at the same time as the young trickster. Not because he does not want to see him, but because he knows something is not right, and Loki is far too perceptive not to realize that Thor is trying to hide how little he knows what he's doing.

He shouldn't be there now, Thor hopes. He isn't usually, this time of day. The thunderer opens the door to the tavern, and heads inside to pick up the order he'd called ahead.

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Loki would be distraught to know that Thor had taken it that way. But then he was good at saying things in the worst ways at times. There had been a time when Thor might have been able to choose to moderate himself, but through whatever was troubling him, it seemed he was a bit past that stage.

"It's not fine, though," Loki replied softly. "And... it's alright if it's not. Wasn't it you that told me that we're all works in progress? I understand that you don't want to show your troubles to all and sundry, I understand what it's like to turn to self-destructive ends to try and mask the truth of what's wrong. You're my brother, and I want to help, but you need to allow it, to let me help support you."

It's too much, too fast, and Thor is far too sober for this. He doesn't need much, just... just a little. Enough to calm down. Maybe one bottle. Or two. It's hard to keep track sometimes, once he's started. But that's not so bad, is it? Just one or two?

But Loki won't let him. He can tell that right now, his brother who denied him alcohol from the moment he stepped in the door, no matter how delicious the other drink was. Is.

He needs it.

He needs to get out of here, to find somewhere he can sit and think, to drink enough to settle his nerves and get his head on straight. That's what he needs. Just a moment. Just... make it all stop.

"I-I just remembered, there was something I was supposed to do," he blurts out, not meeting Loki's eye, trying to smooth back his hair and look like he's not losing it inside. "So if you'll... just... give me my order, I'll be on my way."

"Thor..."

Loki was fairly certain that Thor could end up hating him. Even if it was only until he'd gotten help, was in a better place. But wasn't it a risk he had to take? Thor needed his help, and if he enabled him in this because it was easier...

He came around the bar to approach his brother, to take his hands or settle hands on his arms, whichever was allowed.

"You know I can't. You're my brother and I love you, and I won't help you destroy yourself like this!"

He's not choking up, you are!

Thor stands up, nearly knocking the barstool over in his haste to take a step back, unsure what he's afraid Loki will do but unable to consider it rationally. Even the hands on his arms make him flinch, and the roughness of Loki's voice seem to cut him to the core.

He's done worse than he thought. He's made Loki upset.

He didn't mean to. Didn't want to. He'd wanted to keep this to himself, where it'd hurt no one but him. But then Loki had to dig and worry, and drag him out until he can't hide anymore. He feels cornered, and there isn't a way out, Loki shutting down every avenue of escape until he has to face the truth that's been staring him in the face for over a year.

"Half, then?" he asks, far more pleading than he'd intended. Surely they can compromise? Enough to delay needing to talk about it, enough that he can get away and fortify himself against his brother's words behind the shield of alcohol.

It wasn't just Thor who hurt. For all the man had been convincing himself it was, hiding behind the supposed safety of that wall of drink, those who cared for him noticed. Unsure what to do about it, with Asgardian culture being what it was, how to get Thor to accept the help he needed.

He wished he could. Just give Thor what he wanted, let him hide. But it wouldn't help. It would just put this off longer, Thor would hurt longer. It would be cruel, for all Thor would thank Loki for it, and he couldn't bear the thought.

"No Thor," He tried to keep his tone firm, but as kind as he could manage it, a faint, almost watery huff following. "Bor's Blood but of all the times for my famed silver tongue to have fled me."

No. Not even half? That's far less than he'd been drinking before, never mind that Thor would've had to supplement from somewhere else. No, if Loki is denying him even this, then he would deny it all.

Thor cannot articulate why that thought is so terrifying, even to himself.

"What would you have me do?" he demands, his good eye stinging with tears, wrenching himself free from his brother's grip and grasping his own arms tightly enough that his metal fingers will no doubt leave bruises.

Oh but those tears, and that yank free of his grip are like a knife to the heart, for all Loki knew to expect such a reaction.

"Seek assistance," He replied gently, wishing that this was something he had the immediate solution to. That he could simply wave a hand and magic it away. "Have you spoken with Eir about this? I would... think them best suited to help you figure out what to do. I could go with you if you wanted, let the others think you're dragging my troublesome ass in for a checkup."

Would it make it less harrowing, to have an excuse to go see Eir, to have support as he did? Loki hoped so, because it seemed the best option he could think of.

Go see someone else? Let Eir know that her king is failing worse than she'd thought, that he is still struggling despite her medicines? Word would get around, and get back to the other Loki, when he returns. And he'd know that Thor was not fit to watch over the children in his absence, that he'd made a mistake to trust his brother with this most important task.

Never mind that this Loki could tell him just as easily. In the depths of his distress, this doesn't occur to Thor.

Thor had thought that he was done seeking solitude, hiding away like an animal licking its wounds, but right now he wants nothing more. He'd been getting better, and now it feels like he's back at square one and he doesn't know what to do.

"No, no, there's no need for that," he says, looking anywhere but at Loki. "I... I have to go." He has to get out of here. Empty-handed, a growing knot of anxiety writhing in his chest, but he has to leave before Loki realizes what's really wrong. Thor does not wait to hear his brother's objections, leaving the half-finished cider behind on the counter and knocking the barstool over in his haste to make for the door. He has no idea where he's going, what else he can do, but it's Not Here.

Edited 2020-09-23 00:30 (UTC)

Admitting You Have a Problem

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