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Thor had been the first to notice. It made sense, of course. He'd grown up with Loki, they'd spent most of their childhood together. Of course he'd noticed it first.
Being on Midgard had taught him much. He got to know the people here, found friends amongst them, battle companions, family. He learned how sweetly they could love and how fiercely they were passionate. He learned that kindness and compassion were not a weakness. He learned that differences should not be reviled, but accepted. He learned tolerance and patience and gentleness. He learned much from Midgard and its people.
He also learned about the Science of Midgard. Or, should he say, the Sciences, multiple and varied on every topic. Humans were such curious creatures. They wrote down all their findings and made them public, so that everyone could benefit from the knowledge. They shared it openly and updated them with each new discovery. Knowing just one thing was not enough for them. Thor was fascinated by the drive behind human curiosity. It seemed limitless and vast, and so were the Sciences. Thor spent many nights reading their books and journals. He learned much from it.
One particular field caught Thor's attention the most. The Science of the Mind. Thor read about mental disorders and illnesses. He learned about psychological traumas and brain injuries. He learned about the functions of the brain and how easily it could malfunction if not in correct conditions or environments. He learned about mental breaks.
And the most important thing he learned was that if somebody's personality changed completely overnight, so much so that the person became unrecognizable, there had to be a reason. Be it illness, injury or trauma, there was a reason. And as there was a reason, there usually were treatments. It gave Thor hope, but also great worry. Without treatment, all the books claimed, the state of the afflicted would only deteriorate. Given enough time and 'episodes', the chances for recovery grew smaller.
Thor had been the first one to notice. It was impossible not to, even if he hadn't learned much from the Science of the Mind.
Loki was getting worse.
Loki had stayed close to Midgard, just as Thor had. But while Thor played the part of beloved Hero, Loki spread his wings as a villain. He'd often threaten Midgardian cities, cause chaos or knavery, seemingly for his own amusement. Time passed this way, week after month after year, of meeting each often as Hero and Foe. And Thor had been the first to notice.
Where once Loki would've ducked or danced away from a hit or a strike, now he would stumble more and more often. He used to perform feats of powerful magic without batting an eye. Now Thor noticed him hesitating, faltering. His plans, though still grandiose and elaborate, now had very little logic to them. They frequently collapsed under their own absurd or inconsistencies.
What worried Thor more than all those little things was the way Loki spoke. He confused his words, used the wrong ones and did not even realize. He would say lunch instead of clutch and not see the problem. Wednesday instead of witness, garage instead of garrison. The list grew each time Thor and Loki met and Loki did. Not. Notice. On the contrary, he laughed in the face of Thor's worry as if nothing was wrong.
Thor had been the first to notice how Loki was getting worse. But as his condition continued to worsen, the other Avengers started seeing it as well. Soon, it became impossible not to see it. As time passed, it became nearly painful to witness his brother's fracturing psyche. His stumbling started being accompanied by random twitches and ticks. His magic wavered and his spells began failing, as if the magic just slipped off of his fingers. His plans were no longer even plans, just random acts of insanity that made sense to no one. Perhaps not even to Loki.
And each time Thor tried to speak to him, to explain his worries, to point out how bad Loki was getting, Loki just laughed. Laughed and disappeared, as if it was all a big joke.
After a time, Loki stopped being able to cause his villainy on his own. Doom or another villain attacked alongside Loki, though it was obvious it was not on equal ground. More often than not, the villains just aimed his ailing brother like a weapon and let his fluctuating unstable magic take its course. They were also the reason why Thor couldn't get close to Loki anymore. They would snatch his brother away and escape, leaving Thor no clue as to where they had gone. Many times Thor had had the impression that Loki didn't even understand what was happening nor did he know where they were taking him.
But the worst still was Loki's speech. He kept confusing words, so much so that most of what he said was just a jumbled mess. Then slurring appeared, and the tone of Loki's voice began fluctuating. It would be high and manic in one moment, in the next slow and hesitant, confused, and then low like a growl. Sometimes all three within a single sentence.
Loki also started suffering from intense headaches, Thor believed. Often he'd stop in the middle of the battlefield and clutch at his head with a whimper or an outright cry. And each time he was snatched away before Thor could get to him.
Loki kept getting worse.
Thor consulted many mind specialists on Midgard, both from SHIELD and outside the organization. He explained his brother's symptoms and how he'd deteriorated. How he was still deteriorating. Every mind-doctor said the same: 'Your brother needs immediate help. He cannot continue untreated. One way or another, he will not survive.'
Thor knew that. Already there was nothing left in Loki that Thor recognized. He didn't even know if Loki still recognized Thor at all. He kept calling him 'Floofr', giggling as if it was the funniest thing he had heard in centuries.
Thor did not think it was funny. Few Avengers did nowadays. Even Friend Stark no longer mocked his brother's slips. They were no longer slips. The overwhelming majority of what left Loki's mouth was just a garbled mess of random words, and Thor wanted to weep. It sounded as if Loki's silver tongue had been shattered like glass and glued together into a jagged, misshapen horror.
And still Loki grinned manically, even when he fell and didn't seem to remember how to work his legs to get back up. The first time he'd witnessed that, Thor did weep. And still, Doom had snatched his brother away before Thor got close enough to touch, to comfort, to protect.
It soon became too much to bear, and the Avengers' battle strategy changed. Half of the team worked to defeat the actual villain, the rest did their best to separate Loki from his 'ally'. It was surprisingly difficult, largely because Loki no longer understood most of what was happening around him. He tended to panic, and whenever that happened, he emitted powerful bursts of randomized magic. It was often imperative to one's life to stay away from those.
And still Loki kept getting worse.
Thor wept.
*~*
“Thor, Loki is down. I repeat, Loki is down.” Thor heard through the communicator and he cursed, smashing the nearest Doombots with Mjolnir.
“Where?” he demanded into the device and took out two more Doombots with a single kick.
“Behind the fountain by the bank.” Hawkeye informed him and Thor flew into the air. “Don't be pissed, bro, but I kinda got sick of this fuckery, and I shot him through the thigh. He can't get up.”
“Are you mad?!” The Captain exclaimed. “We don't need him zapping everything around with his magic if he panics!”
“He's not! He froze the fountain and now he's just sitting there!”
“Me and Hulk are keeping Doom occupied.” Ironman joined in. “Go get your crazy bro before Metal-Panties-in-a-Twist notices he's down.”
Thor finally spotted the fountain, its water frozen into twisting ice swirls. He landed as gently as he could and set Mjolnir down. “Loki?” He called, walking slowly around the fountain.
“Yellow!” Loki screeched back. “Orange Tuesday! Go avian!”
Thor's heart clenched in his chest. “Loki. T'is I, Thor.”
“Floofr. Floofr, level alone!” Loki's voice sounded so frustrated, and Thor walked closer still. His brother was huddled by the stone ring of the fountain. He was clutching his head so tightly his knuckles were white, nails digging into his temples. “Goober memor, Floofr!”
“Loki, do not be afraid.” Moving slowly, Thor knelt down by Loki's side. “I am here.”
Loki bared his teeth like a rabid animal. He thrust one hand forward, an energy blast already gathering in his palm. But the energy petered out like a dying flame a moment later, and Loki slumped back against the fountain. He kept clutching his head with one hand and lifted the other, the one the spell had escaped from, up to his face. He stared at it without blinking, as if surprised the spell was no longer there.
“Loki?” Thor tried again, careful to keep his tone calm.
His brother didn't seem to have heard him. Suddenly, he started biting at his hand, sinking his teeth viciously into the flesh.
Thor wanted to weep. “Loki, no. Don't hurt yourself.” Blood dripped down Loki's chin, and yet he still kept biting, ripping at his own hand.
Thor wept, tears stinging his eyes.
“Loki, please.” He sobbed. “Please, Loki. Give me but one sign that there is still a glimmer of you left within this madness.”
Loki released his hand and snarled at Thor, his teeth red with his own blood. He tried speaking next, but instead of words, what came out was a garbled screech. He grabbed at his face, and his bloodied palm left red splotches on his cheek and forehead. He laughed, the sound high and maniacal, but it sounded as if he was a second away from wailing in despair.
Thor covered his eyes with one hand and wept. “Loki. Loki, my brother.” He cried softly. He reached out and grabbed Loki by the shoulders. His brother struggled and snarled like a cornered beast, but Thor managed to pull him into a forceful embrace. He wrapped his arms tightly around Loki's torso, pinning his arms to his sides. He clasped Loki's kicking legs underneath his own, ignoring the arrow that was now digging into his own thigh. Lastly, he pressed one hand on the back of Loki's head and forced it to rest against Thor's shoulder. He ignored Loki's struggles, and didn't care about how his brother was biting him. Thor pressed a tender kiss to his brother's temple and started rocking side to side. “Hush, Loki. Do not fret, I am here now.”
Loki howled, screaming his madness into Thor's shoulder.
“You are safe now, my brother. No more harm will befall you.” Thor promised, ignoring the jumbled words Loki was still screaming. “I will keep you safe, Loki. My Loki.” He pressed another kiss to Loki's temple and hugged him close. “My beloved brother. I will keep you safe.”
Loki coughed, so strongly as if he was choking. “I... I...” he tried, eyes wet with frustrated tears. His magic fluctuated around them, but it collapsed moments later, Loki's mind too weak to command it. He pressed his face into the junction between Thor's neck and shoulder and started crying. His wails sounded very alike his earlier screeches, but these were laced with such heart-wrenching despair it was impossible to confuse the two.
During his studies, Thor had learned that oftentimes insanity grew so subtly that those it touched didn't even realize the extent of their own madness. That although all could see it, they themselves remained blind to it.
Thor had believed Loki was in the grasp of such blindness. Now, listening to his brother cry and sob against his shoulder, Thor was sure that Loki knew. Even if he blind to his own insanity, Loki saw enough to realize something was terribly wrong with him.
“Do not fret, brother.” Thor continued to murmur, cradling Loki's heaving back tenderly. “I am here now. I will keep you safe.”
Loki continued to cry. Thor wept with him.
end