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[personal profile] onyxexistance
Title: Brothers No More
Fandom/Pairing: Thor/X-Men: First Class - Loki & Magneto
Rating: PG
Author:[livejournal.com profile] onyxexistance  / [livejournal.com profile] openmoments 
Spoilers: N/A
Word Count: 369
Summary: Loki and Magneto and their thoughts on their brothers. 
Disclaimers: Do not own. If I did, I wouldn't have to write this, because it would be on TV. 
Prompt: Angst! Angst! Angst! Angst! And some other stuff that I forgot.....
Author's Notes: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY LOVELY [livejournal.com profile] zed_pm ! Everything (I think) you love about this crossover is here. .  ♥ ♥

It was never supposed to end this way. With Thor betrayed, hurt, brotherless. That’s never how Loki wanted this to go. The plan....Zeus. The plan hadn’t involved feelings or emotions or his older brother’s voice as he plummeted into nevermore. The plan...Hades.

That’s where his plan had gone wrong. He hadn’t thought to take into account the searing pain he’d felt when his father, no, when Odin, had told him that secret about himself. He hadn’t taken into account what it would feel like for Odin to grab onto his hand, gripping it tighttightpainfullytight, as if praying that he’d have both his sons in the end. He hadn’t taken into account the hurt that laced Thor’s screams as he fell. The hurt that defied gravity and space and everything else and ricocheted through his ears, into his brain, down to his heart.

That’s how he’d ended up with Magneto: the draw, the pull, the insistence of two broken hearts attempting to heal alongside each other.

It was never because of power. Never. (Or at least he told himself as he pushed himself into sleep’s resistant arms night after night.) It was for him, to come into himself, to stop being second best and start being second to none. For him, for him, for him...

For him, the brother that had rescued him and brought him back from the edge. The brother who he’d met late in life and refused to hold a gun to his head. The brother...but he wasn’t. (His brother, he means, because, he was...he existed.)

He favoured alcohol and noticed Loki’s looks but ignored them because what could someone that young understand? (Other than everything.) So it was bottom’s up and down on the couch, his bed too far away, Loki’s long, thin, wiry arms prying him from the sofa and caressing him into bed.

(No, no more brothers. Associates. Partners. Sidekicks. Not brothers. Never again.)

So it was push, shove, kick, pull. World domination (or at least some form of it, a cleaner form, with a plan, a purpose, something that was better...better than....better than Xavier, but that was folly: nothing was better than Xavier. Nothing. Especially not him.)

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