pirateangelbaby | Admitting You Have a Problem

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ic,
loki

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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Were he thinking more clearly, Thor might be more inclined to ration his dwindling supply, knowing that it may be some time before he can find a reliable source of more godlike alcohol. But he's not. Once he starts, it's difficult to stop, and one drink leads to another. And another.

He wakes up on his couch the next day, head aching fiercely and a terrible taste in his mouth. He's not quite sure how long he stays like that, sitting still and hoping he does not lose whatever's still in his stomach, before he manages to drag himself to the washroom. The house is in a bit of a state, and there's no sign of the children, which sends a surge of adrenaline through his muzzy brain until he remembers he'd left them with Solvi. Had he told her to keep them overnight? He doesn't remember, everything past leaving the Viper's Pit is a rapidly darkening blur.

A shower is a bit beyond his ability at the moment, but he splashes some water on his face and ties his messy hair back away from his face, and trades his shirt for one with less stains on it, feeling wrong and yet not quite able to get himself to do anything about it. Thor can't quite face breakfast, either, instead pouring himself a glass of water and adding an infusion of mint from the pantry, his heart aching nearly as much as his head. Loki would've made me drink it.

He does not recall texting Amelia, but when the phone buzzes next to where he's half-slumped against the kitchen table, he blinks in surprise at what it says. When did they talk about this? How late is it? It's hard to tell sometimes, when the sun begins rising late and setting early. He's not fit for company, but it seems more important to be as normal as possible so she doesn't worry about him. Head propped up against his metal hand, he slowly pokes out a reply with the other.

Staying in sounds good. See you in an hour?

That has to be enough time, right? He'll drink his water and get his head in order, and everything will be fine.

Of course. See you then.

It's time enough for Amelia to ground herself and her magic before she obtains something for them to eat. Loki said Thor left the Viper's Pit in a bit of a state, so something simple would be best. As she steadies herself and gathers all the calming herbs and oils she can think of, she orders them a basic charcuterie board and a few cups of various light soups from a local deli. She's not sure it'll be the right call, but everything will be easy enough for her to pick at so she can pretend she's able to get food into her stomach while it's in knots. To not put any further pressure on her body, though, she takes the time to change into a simple long-sleeved shirt and jeans before she heads out.

A little over an hour later, the rogue arrives at her friend's door, a bag of food in one hand and a cooler filled with ginger ale in the other. She takes a breath to calm her heartbeat and schools her expression into something approaching neutral. She can do this. It will take time and all of her patience, but she will help her friend starting today.

Knocking softly, she manages a small smile as she waits for Thor to answer the door. It should be more than convincing enough through the haze of his hangover, though she hopes she can make it last long enough to start the inevitable difficult conversation they're going to have.

An hour should be plenty of time, and yet Thor's not quite sure where that time went when the knock comes at the door. His head still aches, and the bathroom is a mess best not spoken of, but he's managed a whole glass of water and that counts for something.

"Just a moment," he calls out, not quite as loud as it probably should be, and double checks to make sure the bathroom door is closed and the empty glasses are in the sink. There's a smell of ale in the house where he must have spilled some on the carpet, but there's nothing that can be done about that right now.

He's been avoiding mirrors, so he does not know how rough he looks as he pasts a smile on and opens the door. "Good morning." At least, he hopes it still is.

It's difficult for Amelia to hold her smile when she sees how terrible Thor looks. He doesn't smell particularly good either, but there's nothing that can be done about that right now. There will be plenty of time for difficult conversations after she's gotten inside and managed to get him to eat something. Dreams only knows how difficult that might be if, as Loki intimated, Thor doesn't see his drinking as a problem.

"Good morning. I brought a light lunch we can enjoy at our leisure today." She lifts her hands briefly to show off her bounty. "Might I come in? I can at least get the breads, cheeses, and dried fruits set up on a plate for us to start with if you're not in the mood for soup."

She wants to push her way in to get the upper hand here, but she knows that won't help him right now. Taking care of himself and changing his habits needs to be Thor's decision; All Amelia can do is offer to be at his side when he needs help along the winding path ahead of him.

"Sure. Come on in." Normally, her refusal to enter without a face-to-face invitation strikes him as quaint yet admirable. Today he's just glad that she messaged before coming over. She might have noticed the mess - both himself and the house - and then she'd be too busy fussing over him for them to have lunch.

Not that he's terribly hungry yet, his stomach still feeling a bit unsettled, but the way his head aches means he should probably try to eat something. Maybe next time he could suggest they get Bloody Marys.

With Amelia puttering around the kitchen setting up the meal, Thor retrieves a pair of glasses and is halfway across the kitchen before he realizes he shouldn't be pouring them both an ale this early in the day. His step stutters and he backtracks, trying to look natural as he returns to the cupboard to trade them for coffee mugs instead.

She takes a breath when she sees him all but trip over himself with indecision. A frown tugs across her features as she looks away to gather a few plates and some silverware. This was always going to be difficult, she reminds herself, and trying to hide from even the smallest things at the start will only make it more so. They will make it through this and she will help him through to the other side, however long that takes.

After taking another breath to steady herself, Amelia puts on a smile and heads out to the table. As she sets up their lunch, she looks over at Thor fondly. "Could you bring over some glasses for ginger ale as well?" she asks. "We don't have to open it right away, but I brought it with to give us some variety. If you're planning on coffee, though, I would love a cup." Not that she needs it at this point, but it'll give them both something to hold onto that isn't food.

Once their lunch is fully set, including a small plate and bowl set aside for each of them, the rogue takes a seat at the table such that she can clearly see into the kitchen from her position. She's not about to let Thor try to hide from her today, though she'll go easy on him with her opening question. "How are you feeling today? You look a bit tired."

"Oh, uh, sure." Has he had ginger ale before? How strong is it? Thor is open to trying any ale, of course, even though this is breakfast. Or possibly lunch. Maybe that will make him feel better and chase off the hangover.

His body language is a little more relaxed as he grabs the glasses again, setting them on the table before he turns to brew the coffee. By now he can do it in his sleep, setting the kettle on the stovetop to boil the scoops of grounds in the Norwegian style. Still, he's glad to sit down, slouching a bit as if it will help his head stop pounding. At least this late in the year, he does not have to worry about sunbeams coming through the windows to seek his eye.

"Hmm? Oh, it's nothing," he says with a chuckle that sounds just shy of genuine. "Didn't sleep well, I think. No visions though," he hastens to add, in case that's what concerns her. "Just dreams, normal dreams."

The glasses aren't what she'd choose for the ginger ale, but they'll do. Amelia holds off pouring them each a glass while they have hot coffee in their hands, choosing to watch Thor a little more closely first. It's not lost on her that his muscles are tensed and his brow furrowed at the edges even when he manages a small laugh. She wants desperately to pull him into a hug and encourage him to open up to her, but she holds on the impulse, focusing her energy on steadily turning the coffee mug at a slow pace between her fingers.

"Normal dreams aren't always better," she counters with knowing smile. She's suffered enough nights of "good" dreams to know that. "But it's good they weren't visions, even if they were disruptive to your sleep. That would be far more than you need to deal with right now."

Dreams, she didn't quite mean to phrase it like that. She quickly brings the coffee to her lips to give herself a moment to think and for her slightly leading phrasing to settle. Time to slowly make their way toward the hard part.

"You've seemed tired a lot lately. I haven't wanted to mention it while Loki's children were around, but you seem..." She frowns a little, nervously shifting her coffee mug around on the table but not dropping her gaze from Thor's face. "You've seemed exhausted at times, even a little overwhelmed at others. I don't doubt your ability to care for the children or your duties around Asvera, but I worry you're neglecting yourself in the process." A beat of hesitation, then she quickly adds, "I only say this or even notice because I've done the same thing when I've pushed myself to keep up with so many large responsibilities at once."

More than he needs to deal with right now? Thor's chuckle is breathy and awkward, a hint of nervousness. It's not as if she knows of his argument with Loki, though. She must mean the children, he reasons. "I'm holding up all right."

He's not so sure when she continues, however, like she's avoiding some pitfall he can't see, carefully stepping around the edge. Why would she fear to say this in front of the children? He may be their king and Allfather, but unlike Odin, the survivors of Asgard are well aware of Thor's foibles. It's for the better, in his opinion - one of the people, not some untouchable god above them. And less likely to disappoint them, though he does not admit that to anyone but himself.

A frown creases his brow, and he hides his uncertainty behind the mug, draining half its contents in a single swig. "I've been worse. This is not like last year, if that's what you're worried about."

"No, I understand that much." Her frown deepens as her gaze drops to her coffee. How to phrase this without directly asking about the issue they both know is there? If Thor isn't offering the knowledge directly, it seems very unlikely he'll open up about his drinking problem without a more pointed question about it. Amelia would still prefer not to back Thor into a corner by calling it out by name unless it's absolutely necessary, so it's time to try something new.

After helping herself to a sip of coffee, she sets the mug aside and pours them each a glass of ginger ale. It's mostly to give herself something to do, but it might also be a tool she can use. "Worse is also a matter of opinion," she muses quietly, offering Thor a glass. "I know things are different for you now than they were a year ago, but in some ways it seems like you're struggling more. Maybe it's an outsider's perspective and everything really is fine, that's plausible. I don't know what you're thinking or feeling outside of what you say."

She looks up slowly and gently places a hand over his when he reaches for the glass of ginger ale. "No matter what you're feeling, I'm here, in good times and difficult ones. But... you offered your hand to me on the darkest of my days and I want to make sure I offer the same to you should you need it."

Thor is hungover, though not so much that this doesn't strike him as being odd, uncomfortable, like waiting for some sort of bad news to break. He looks uncertainly at her hand on his, aware that she's trying to send some sort of message and utterly unable to figure out what it is.

It can't be what happened last night. It can't. When would she have spoken to Loki?

Uneasy, he pulls the glass of ginger ale towards himself instead, sniffing at it and frowning when he doesn't detect so much as a whiff of alcohol. What kind of ale is this? Even the human-strength stuff is usually evident enough for him to tell, no matter that it's not enough for him. "Well, I do have four children to look after this time, not just myself. It's not going to be easier." He sips it, not sure what to make of the flavor, but the bubbles are weirdly soothing. "They're with Solvi right now, I had the night to myself."

He wasn't supposed to, but she doesn't need to know that, he figures.

It's frustrating to know they're so close to broaching the subject without her having to call it by its name. Amelia sighs heavily as she takes a sip of ginger ale, needing a moment to think before she tries again. The last thing she needs is to let her frustration turn into anger and make things even more difficult and upsetting. It's a hard temptation to resist.

"The children aren't an issue." She wants to make that very clear. He's not hiding behind them, but he's deflecting and she wants to take that option off the table before he tries to use it further. "I understand they can be stressful at times, but this has been going on far longer than the length of time you've been looking after them."

With another sigh, she pushes aside her glass and looks Thor in the eyes - or attempts to, anyway. "This time last year, you were dealing with loss and responsibilities far greater than what you have now. Things are different now. Better in some ways, but worse in others." Despite her best effort, her face takes on a pained edge. "Did you ever let go of the heaviest burdens? Or are you hiding them with something else?"

It's hard to break the habits of a lifetime. Putting on a strong facade for the people has long been part of Thor's life, long before he was king. To admit anything else would be weakness to be exploited by Asgard's enemies, or to erode the people's faith in their leadership. Even now, there are days when Thor believes he only remains in his people's good graces because his descent into darkness was alongside their own.

He's been trying, though. Trying to normalize the aftermath of the trauma they've all endured as a culture, to be open and honest about the illness it's caused in him, to show his people that they do not need to suffer alone. Perhaps this makes him a hypocrite.

His grip on the glass tightens a little, looking as though she's punched him in the gut. Did you ever let go of the heaviest burdens? "Could you, if you were me?"

It's a fair question, one she has more experience with than others might think. Their burdens are different and hardly a good comparison for everything Thor has been dealing with, but it gives her the empathy she needs to take this opening and ease it open.

"No. I carry everything with me that I've done, even those things that are gone and far beyond my reach." She tilts her head ever so slightly as she watches him. "But I don't hide those hurts under habits that will kill me. I have, and dreams know I have days when I don't turn away from things that harm more than help, but I've grown enough to carry the weight without always hurting myself in the process. I can talk about those things that hurt, let others in when I feel the pain the most."

Now, she thinks, is the time to finally say it. Gently, but the tides are in the right direction for them to make progress in this journey.

"Asgardians are a hearty people, but even they have their limits. A house that smells of ale says you may have reached yours." She looks him over with soft, worried eyes. "A friend who's seen you struggling hopes she can help."

Thor is so certain that this is supposed to be a conversation about his feelings, 'bottling them up' as humans often say, and so the tack that she takes with her final statements catches him completely off-guard. Don't most homes smell of ale, when it's time for a meal? And she brought him this gingered ale, as well. But this is a problem to her?

Bewilderment creeps into his eye and he chuckles nervously, lifting the glass to drink from it. What has gotten into everyone all of a sudden? "All Asgardians drink." Sure, he's been drinking more than most, but he needs it.

"To excess?" she counters. "A home may smell of ale if there's open drinks at a table, but unless you added ale to your coffee, there's none in front of us right now." Amelia's certain she would have noticed the smell if that were true, but at least by being honest about what she brought with her, she can attempt to push more understanding onto Thor. She knew this was a problem before she arrived, so she avoided bringing anything that could make it worse.

"I don't understand why you're attempting to hide the truth we both know. I'm not going to judge you for it, because everyone has struggles and faults. There's no shame in that." If there were, she might have died from shame years ago. Her lips press into a thin line as she continues. "But I worry for you, for your health, if you continue to deny what's happening."

"None...?" Thor gives another look at the drink in his hands, a pink flush to his cheeks above the scruff of his beard. Did she trick him? Or is he a fool for not knowing?

Flustered, he sets it down heavily on the table. "I'm not hiding anything. I'm fine. Don't I look okay?"

He doesn't. He looks distressed and a little betrayed, and more than a little desperate. Desperate for this to all be normal, for her to laugh and change the subject to something more comfortable, for a real drink.

"None." It wasn't her intention to mislead Thor; She simply didn't realize until they were sitting down together that he didn't know what ginger ale was. True, she used this to her advantage, but she wanted to make sure he ate or drank at little something of substance while she was with him. Terrible as it may be, Amelia won't apologize for it until he's in a better place to hear it.

"No, you don't." She frowns softly. So many emotions are written on his face and in his body language. Some of it is her fault, certainly, but this is so much deeper than what she's forcing him to confront today. On top of that, he looks ragged and unhealthy in ways that betray how long this has been a problem. "That you would try to convince me otherwise, that you've convinced yourself otherwise, scares me."

If she were to leave now, what would happen? Would he go straight for a drink? Would he do something worse after feeling so attacked? Her chest clenches at the thought and it requires more effort to force a breath into her lungs. She can't focus on thoughts like that right now or she'll fall apart, too.

"Admitting you have a problem is difficult," she affirms, hoping this will help Thor vocalize the real issue. "It forces you to address and fight things you've been hiding from. It hurts and you'll want to fall back into habits that are best left behind. But with help, and with all the strength you already have, you can overcome it. I promise you it's possible."

There is no rain in the forecast, yet from outside, there is a low roll of thunder across the horizon. Thor clenches his hands into fists, metal fingers scraping against each other on one side, the other silent save for the rustle of his shirt sleeves. "Don't you think I've tried?"

It comes out harsher than he means, frustration at being interrogated over a glass of something that isn't even real ale, that he doesn't even realize he's admitted to recognizing the problem.

"I can't give it up. I need it."

His frustration is palpable in multiple ways. Amelia takes a breath to steady herself, to fight the way her eyes begin to water and form tears at their edges. It's so much more difficult than she imagined it would be.

"Why? Why do you need it? What does it do for you that you couldn't do for yourself with time, patience, and care?" What makes alcohol so special that Thor would run from Loki and hide his drinking for months - years? - without end?

"I don't know!" Thor has rarely excelled at talking about his feelings, not when they hurt, when he feels backed into a corner with nowhere to go. It has been a struggle to accept what Eir has told him about depression and post-traumatic stress, that it does not make him weaker, and those are things that he understands. This is something else, something that cannot be blamed on his illness. This is something he should be able to control, a choice he can make, and yet...

...and yet...

Amelia has him dead to rights, and he cannot bring himself to get angry with her, to throw her out of his house and destroy the friendship they've built. The old shame snakes its way into his chest again, that insidious little voice inside that tells him that he's a failure and he might as well accept that. He's gotten very good at ignoring that voice, but right now it's all but impossible to muster his defenses against it. "I can't stop myself," he admits, so quiet that she might have missed it, if not for the attention she refuses to avert from him.

No matter how Thor yells or recoils, Amelia doesn't flinch. She's been the brunt of anger and hurt in the past, rightfully or no, and she'll hold onto it as she has so many times before. It feels different this time, knowing as she does that he's upset with himself and not her. There's something else to it as well, a pain she feels sit deep in her chest as she watches her friend crumble in front of her. She wishes it wasn't this way. She wishes she could ease his pain with soft words and promises of better days ahead. But life isn't that simple and what's happening now will take work to get through. Work Amelia is determined to help Thor with - if he'll accept it.

She lets him speak in peace, the silence between them tense but necessary as they both process what's been said. "Doing what you should isn't always easy," she agrees in a soft tone. "We all fail. We all struggle. No one is above that. No one is required to do it alone, though."

Slowly, cautiously, she extends a hand to him across the table.

"This is your battle. How you move forward is your choice. If doing it on your own is too much, help is within your reach." She offers him a small, sad smile. "I don't know this problem personally, but I know how difficult it is to break terrible habits. I can be here as you find your feet again." Her face takes on a somber edge as she continues. "You won't hurt me by taking what I'm offering, but I won't force it on you. The path ahead will be difficult and I only want you to be as prepared as you can be."

He doesn't look at her, shifting uncomfortably in his seat, aware that she's reaching out but he doesn't move to take her hand, his own hands fidgeting against each other, a nervous gesture she has seen from him more than once during his darker days. Even with the truth out in the open, it makes him feel exposed, vulnerable, seeking for a way to deflect her attention away from this rot that's been spreading at his core and not finding any.

"You don't understand." How could she? Even Thor does not understand, despite himself. He struggles to put it into words, not sure even to himself what he can say of it. "I tried... just one night. I didn't make it. I need it. Like you need to breathe."

It never used to be that way. Something's changed, and he doesn't know where it all went wrong.

"Loki won't give me any more." It feels like confessing a terrible secret, one that should never see the light of day.

"I hear you," she says simply. He's right to think she doesn't understand - addiction like this has never been in her life - but she understands the need to stay with a habit that's destroying you. The need to hold onto something even when you know it can, has, and will only bring you and your loved ones pain. The need to hide and pretend everything is fine to hold onto a façade that's been in place for so long that letting it down feels impossible. It helps her stay steady as she watches him crumble, piece by piece, to the foundation of his being so he can start again.

Her hand rests gently against the table between them, unmoving as she watches her friend with worried eyes.

"I know. He told me so himself." Amelia hopes this won't be too much for him to hear. She doesn't want to drive him back to denial, but this is a truth that needs to be shared. "He worries for you, about what the ale and mead is doing to you. He didn't want you to be alone - and neither do I. So I'm here to help however I can, even if all I can do for now is listen."

It's not denial that flickers across his face when she admits her source. It's betrayal, a wounded look as if she's slapped him, shame that his friends are talking about him behind his back. Thor is not sure which is more humiliating, knowing that they're talking of him in hushed whispers or the fact that he's backslid so much that they feel the need to. He'd thought that he had a handle on things, and having it shoved in his face that his progress has slipped away from him is a hard reality to accept.

"Talking won't make this... this need go away," he says, struggling to make her understand, to put his thoughts and feelings into words even though doing so at all contradicts what he just claimed. "It won't bring Loki back, or anything else I've lost. It won't make me feel as though I know what I'm doing, with the children, with the village. I'm... so tired of waiting and worrying."

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