#this is just one massive fucking headache & gonna cost thousands

[xythlia]

good morning my bathroom is being destroyed I hate home repair I hate home repair

[alirhi]

22

Title: Winter's Frost Chapter: 22/? Fandom: MCU Rating: R to be on the safe side Pairing: Loki/Bucky Summary: Loki never told anyone the real reason he became so obsessed with Midgard. Much better to let them think he wanted to hurt his brother than draw their attention to the one thing in the universe that makes the God of Mischief truly vulnerable. Notes: Due to massive levels of incoherent rage at the thought of what they did in Thor: Ragnarok, I have decided to pull from actual Norse mythology again. Everything after The Avengers has been erased in this fic, anyway, so fuck it. Hel and Fenrir are Loki's children as it always should be.

Loki sighed, head resting on Bucky's chest as he basked in the simple joy of hearing his beloved's heart still beating. "I hope you know that you're not allowed to ever die on me again."

"Technically, I haven't died yet at all."

He frowned, pinching Bucky's side and making him laugh. "I mourned you for nearly fifty years, James, and it almost destroyed me."

"Loki..." It was Bucky's turn to sigh as he pushed the Trickster off of him and they both sat up. "Serum or no serum, I'm still human. Eventually, I'm gonna grow old and die. That's just the way it works."

"I don't want you to." Feeling like a child, tears choking him that he refused to shed and Bucky's hands gripping his, Loki shook his head. "I can't lose you again."

With that sad smile he was so sick of looking at, Bucky squeezed his hands a little tighter. "You lived over a thousand years without me, Doll. You'll be okay. You've got Sigyn-"

"I hardly think that's relevant." Prying his hands loose, he wiped furiously at his eyes. "Especially since, if the oaf can't sway Odin, I'll likely never see her again, either. Or my other children."

It was truly beginning to sink in, just how much Loki had sacrificed in his mad scramble to rescue Bucky, and he could tell from the stricken look on his lover's face that it was hitting him, as well. A grown man – a God– and he'd behaved like a reckless child ever since he'd first discovered his soldier alive. He'd succeeded, at last, but at what cost? If his actions left him forever on the run from Asgard, he would never see his wife and sons again; his one consolation was that at least he had his daughters. Hel ruled her own realm and answered to no one, least of all Odin, and Eira... He would die before letting anyone take Eira away from him.

"Jesus, Loki..." Bucky winced, pulling him closer for a hug. "Nari, Fenrir... I'm sorry, I can't pronounce the snake's name-"

That got a half-hearted laugh out of the Trickster, and he laid his head on Bucky's broad shoulder. "Jormungandr. It's alright, love, I'm impressed you remember any of them."

"I get headaches," he admitted softly, "when I try to push too hard, but it's coming back." Arms tightening around the other man, he murmured, "There's a lot I'd rather never think about again, but I don't want to lose a single memory I have with you."

"Don't force it," Loki cautioned as gently as he could, bringing one hand up to tangle in that beautiful dark hair. "It will come back; a remarkable amount already has. Just be patient."

"...Nari," Bucky whispered, shaking his head. "Fenrir, Sleipnir, Jor...Jormun... Can I just call him Joey? I know that's not how the J is pronounced, but his name does start with a J, technically... Right?"

At that, Loki buried his face in Bucky's shoulder and laughed so hard he couldn't breathe. "I would pay to see the look on Jormungandr's face if he ever actually heard you call him Joey!"

"Loki, I'm being serious!"

"About 'Joey'?" He could hear the grin and the suppressed laughter in his beloved's voice, so he didn't feel bad for being unable to contain his hysterical laughter.

"About your kids." He didn't sound amused anymore. With a firm grip on Loki's shoulders, he pushed him back to look him in the eye, and the atmosphere instantly shifted. Expression pained, Bucky reminded him, "What you lost, for me... If you can't fix this, you'll lose your whole damn family. Did you think I was just reciting their names trying to remember them all for a fucking Christmas card or something? Eira's brothers, her sister, her step-mom... Your whole family, everything you built before we met... My God..."

"Yes." His attempt at a snarky, slightly cheesy retort fell flat even to his own ears, but Loki still tried. Prying one strong hand from his shoulder and cradling it between his own, he told him, "I am your God. As for my children... Sleipnir was already taken from me long ago. I'm not sure he even knows I'm his mother."

"Christ, Doll, that makes the rest of this worse!"

"I haven't 'lost' anything." Freyja, how he wished he believed what he was saying. All that mattered at the moment, though, was that Bucky believed it, and so he soldiered on. "Not yet. Odin is a stubborn old fool, but he is old. Worst case scenario, if I can't return home without ending up in chains while he lives, well... he'll die soon and Thor will take the throne despite my best efforts – I really had a lot on my plate when last the Sergeant and I met – and because he's sentimental and forgiving, I'll be welcomed back with open arms."

"'Home'?"

He blinked, confused. "What?"

For someone with such a remarkably expressive face, Bucky could, on occasion, be difficult to read. With the most curious look that Loki couldn't quite identify, he pointed out quietly, "You still call Asgard 'home.'"

He scoffed and shrugged. "Force of habit, I suppose. Best not to read too much into it, darling."

"Right." There was a brief moment of tense silence, and then Bucky, bless his strange mind, smiled and nudged him. "Look, thanks to the serum, I don't really get sick anymore. So as long as the purple menace doesn't lop my head off, you've still got decades before you have to worry about me croaking on you."

Though he appreciated the effort, Loki couldn't quite bring himself to share his love's optimism. After all, what were decades to a being who would live for millennia? Rather than point that out, though, he focused on the other troubling fact: "James, Thanos is dangerous."

"Why, because he kicked your skinny ass?" he teased. "Or, to be more accurate, his minions kicked your skinny ass. Did Thanos actually do anything? How do you know he wants anything nefarious with these magic doohickeys?"

"Because one man amassing ultimate power has never been for the benefit of others, no matter how they delude themselves for the sake of remaining the heroes in their own stories." Giving him a bland look, Loki grumbled, "One would think a World War II veteran would understand that better than most."

Still clinging desperately to his attempt at humor, Bucky shrugged. "Hey, I'm still holding out hope on the kitten theory. You can't deny the world would be a better place if everyone had their own adorable kitty to spoil."

Finally, finally Loki chuckled, shaking his head. "I'll tell you what, darling... Survive what's coming with sanity intact, and I'll get you a kitten myself."

Bucky snorted. "Oh, baby, the sanity ship has sailed. Are you kidding me?"

"The best you can manage, then," he amended with a soft, sad smile. "Just stay close to me, so I can keep you safe."

Watching the other man's expression crumble and all the humor immediately vanish as if it was never there at all, Loki wished he'd never spoken a word.

"No," Bucky told him quietly, but firmly. "I'm sick of constantly being rescued and protected."

"It's not that I think you're weak-"

"Do you remember what I told you when you wanted to stay and fight just so we could be together?"

He did, though he failed to see its relevance. Still, to prove to Bucky that he was paying attention, he dutifully recited his own words back to him. "'You're outside of all this and that's where I need you to stay.' But neither of us is 'outside' of this one-" He was interrupted by his lover snorting and rolling his eyes. "What?"

"Not that part." Shifting position slightly so that he and Loki were facing each other directly without either having to twist, he took the Trickster's soft hands in his own - one rough and callused, the other chilly and unyielding - and reminded him, "'You make me weak. If I see you out there, you'll get me killed.' Well, babe, this time neither of us gets to walk away, so we both need to be focused on the enemy, not each other. Don't waste energy trying to protect me. Having to protect Eira got you both captured. When the war comes, just fight it, and trust that I can look out for myself."

That was a terrifying proposition. Enhanced by mad science or not, Bucky was still only human. The thought of him standing alone and fighting Thanos or one of his psychotic minions with no powers was enough to make Loki sick to his stomach. Perhaps it would be best to leave Bucky in New Mexico with Darcy and Eira; after all, run-of-the-mill human dangers didn't simply vanish because a bigger threat loomed. They would need someone to look after them, as well, and Bucky could certainly handle some random thug looking to cause trouble.

He opened his mouth to suggest it, but his thoughts must have been showing on his face. A metal hand clamped over his mouth before he could utter a sound and Bucky snapped, "You're not sidelining me. Purple Space Hitler calls for all hands on deck, so deal with it."

With a sigh, Loki batted his hand away and shook his head. "You really are the most stubborn creature, James."

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