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They were having a quiet New Year’s in – “I’m not going to celebrate anything about this year,” Loki had said, rather tartly, “not even the end of it,” and Sam, honestly, was just fine with that. The last New Year’s party he’d been to had been with Jess, one she’d dragged him to (“come on, Sam, it’ll be fun”) and it’d been good. But that was just it; it’d been with Jess.
Dean was out, to Sam’s relief. Trying to mediate between Dean and Loki tonight was not something he thought he had the energy for.
Both of them looked up in startled surprise when there was a series of muffled thumps at the door. Loki’s eyebrows quirked.
“Did someone just die in our stairwell?” he asked. Sam reached for the remote and paused Fargo, somewhat regretfully.
“Are you going to get it?” Sam asked. Loki gave him a faintly incredulous look.
“I highly doubt it’s for me. No.”
Sam sighed, and got up, padded over to the door, and opened it. Thor blinked at him, looking red-eyed and quite drunk. Great, Sam thought, and sighed. “Loki-”
“Sam Winchester!” boomed Thor enthusiastically, and dragged Sam nearly off his feet in a hug. “Happy New Year! Is my brother here?”
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” said Loki from the couch. Sam tried unsuccessfully to detach himself from an embrace that was rapidly becoming threatening to his ribs.
“Yeah – um, Thor, could you maybe…breathing. Loki’s here, he’s right over-”
Thor released him, face lighting up, only to take the room in two bounds and catch Loki before he was fully on his feet. His roommate looked faintly wild-eyed and a little as though he were considering bolting in the moment before Thor crushed him in a hug as well. “Little brother!” His voice was distinctly slurred, Sam noticed, and not on an ‘indoor’ setting. If Thor had an ‘indoor’ setting. “I wished to – I wanted to see you. On this night, I know it has not been a year of joy for us-”
“Thor,” Loki was saying, “Thor, you oaf, I do not want-”
“-but I wished you to know that I love you well and wish you the happiest of New Years, and that next year will be better-”
Loki was squirming fruitlessly. Sam crossed his arms and watched from a safe distance. “You stink of liquor,” Loki snapped, and tried again to get free. Thor didn’t seem to notice.
“—because I will make it so, do you understand me, I will make it better and I will be a better brother and show you every day how much I love you and – oof.”
Loki finally thrashed free as Thor grimaced, giving him a wounded puppy look. Loki shot Sam a hopeful, pleading stare, to which Sam just shrugged. “Thor,” Loki said, his voice a little more moderate, “You are – very drunk.”
“No I am not,” Thor said, and then paused, and said, “Or perhaps I am, but that does not matter – Loki, I wished to say that I know you have struggled and I know things have not been well for a long time but they are going to get better now.”
“Why?” Loki said, and Sam realized that he was winding tight like a trip wire. “Because you’ll make it so? You cannot simply make me fit where you think I’m supposed to-”
“Then I will not,” Thor said, with a drunken kind of stubbornness. “I will – I will make it so that you can fit where you want to be and – and I will make it work.”
Loki looked faintly incredulous. “You are drunk,” he scoffed, after a moment. “Where were you, with your friends-”
“I should have been with you,” Thor said, and suddenly there were tears welling up in those earnest blue eyes, and oh, fuck. Sam looked for an escape route, but every exit seemed only likely to draw attention to him. “I should have been with you, brother, as I should have been so often and was not, and I am sorry-”
“Thor,” Loki said, beginning to sound faintly strangled. “Do not – there is no need to – oh, for Christ’s sake-”
“I am sorry,” Thor was saying, with passionate feeling. “That I have not been the best brother to you, that I have not shown you you were appreciated, that I have made you feel unloved or lesser, all that I have done, I am sorry, because Loki – Loki-” Thor took a lurching step forward and Loki jerked back. “—you are my little brother.”
“I am your adopted brother,” Loki said, and his eyes flicked to Sam again, though the panic this time was of a slightly different flavor. Sam looked away hastily. “I know how I am related to you, Thor, I really think you should-”
“You are my little brother,” Thor said again. “And I miss you. And I love you so – so very much.”
“You’re embarrassing yourself,” Loki said, sounding almost horrified, but he took a step forward when Thor wobbled, one hand half reaching out. “You’re only talking this way because you’ve been drinking-”
“I am not embarrassed,” Thor said loudly. “I would shout it to the whole world! If I must, if I need to, so that you know it, I will stand on the roof and yell-”
“You’d fall off, in your current state,” Loki said, but his expression was strange, not one Sam had seen before. “Stop this. Thor, there’s no need-”
“I love you, Loki,” Thor said, and took a step forward, this time catching Loki’s shoulders and grabbing them. “I…”
“Sam,” said Loki, but he was looking at Thor now, meeting his eyes, and those long, slender hands came up slowly to grip Thor’s arms, steadying him when he wobbled. “Do you…I don’t think Thor should travel tonight. I can put him in my bed and take the couch until he…sobers.”
“Yeah,” Sam said quickly. “Yeah, of course, that’s fine.”
Thor sniffed loudly, and somewhat snottily. And dragged Loki into another hug, teetering so that Loki had to catch them both on the couch. This time, Sam noticed, Loki didn’t struggle. Didn’t hug him back, but didn’t struggle. “It will be a better year,” Thor said, emphatically. “It will be, brother.”
“Mayhap it will,” Loki said, lowly. “Come, Thor. Let’s pour you into bed.” Sam wondered if he’d ever heard quite that tone to Loki’s voice before. Almost gentle. Affectionate.
He watched them wobble off down the hall, a little bit of an ache in his chest. He glanced at the clock. 12:01.
Sam sent a quick text to Dean. Happy New Year, Dean. Here’s hoping you got your kiss at midnight.
He went to the couch, and restarted the movie, letting the dialogue cover the sound of two murmuring voices, one distinctly louder, from down the hall.
Sam slept late and wandered into the kitchen to find a very miserable looking Thor sipping at a cup of coffee that looked tiny in his big hands. Loki was emptying the dishwasher, something stiff about his shoulders, almost defensive.
“Morning,” Sam said, after a moment’s silence.
“Quieter?” Thor said hopefully. Loki glanced over his shoulder at Sam, something about his expression faintly unsure. Sam cleared his throat and headed over to the cabinet to get some cereal.
“Afternoon, really,” Loki said, after a moment’s silence. “I have been up for hours.”
“Brother, please,” Thor said plaintively. Sam braced for the snapped ‘you’re not my brother’ or scathing scold. Loki’s narrow shoulders twitched, and he turned around.
“Water, you fool, not coffee,” he said, pulling the mug out of Thor’s hands. “How many times must I…” he trailed off into muttering as he set the mug on the counter, filled a glass of water, and set it down – quietly, Sam noticed – in front of Thor.
“I’d better go see Dean,” Sam said, stepping back from the cereal cabinet. “Wish him a happy New Year, you know. See how hungover he is.”
“Give him my best,” Loki said, with silky venom. Sam headed toward the front door, but couldn’t help but notice as he was putting on his shoes the way Loki’s hand brushed against Thor’s shoulder, just for a second.
Next year, he thought. Maybe next year.