Distorted & Disordered

Chapter 18

**Trigger Warning**: Suicide attempt and feels

He had awoken that morning with a surge of energy, a tranquil expression and a calmness that encircled his scrawny shoulders.

Today was the day!

He felt excited, his numbness having faded into the background like sets of origami swans littering a mantelpiece for several years. He saw the world with color, the sun glittering along the dew on the grass, every blade standing out to him in wonder.

He found himself spinning from his room and folding himself up onto Thor's bed where the older adolescent was still fast asleep.

"Thor!" Loki sang, rolling over onto his brother's body as if it were nothing more than a blanket.

Thor groaned and grumbled but didn't quite awaken.

In this lapse of a moment Loki considered this as his final encounters with his brother for the rest of their lives. So, naturally, he did something then that Thor could remember him by-something he hadn't done in a decade.

"THOR!" He shouted into the nearest, fatefully exposed ear canal of his older sibling.

Quickly jumping into action, Thor made out a whimpered, "Bleghwa!" and fell to his bedroom floor in a tangle of limbs and constricting blankets.

Bug eyed, Thor looked around in alarm for the source of the loud commotion, ocean eyes landing soon on his younger friend.

"Loki!" Thor admonished, shaking his head in confusion. "The last time I told you not to do that was a year ago." He made an angry expression but they both knew he didn't mean it.

"More like ten years ago," Loki corrected, bringing the rest of the comforter and blankets around himself in a comforting pile.

"Has it been that long?" Thor quipped easily.

He hadn't realized it but he had come to miss their boyish banter.

"Only a smidge," Loki replied, gesturing to a small amount.

"My god." Thor responded before a look of open honesty came upon his features. "How much you have grown brother," then, more softly spoken, "I cannot wait to grow old with you."

He didn't mean for it to happen but tears began to streak down his cheeks at Thor's admission.

It was difficult, maybe the hardest thing he had to do, but he forced his mouth open and garbled out, "And I with you."

It was an absolute lie. He knew what he was planning to do to himself that day. He knew the guilt that would arise in his brother in the days to come. He realized then everything he was about to lose.

And he said it anyway.

Because he was in too deep.

He'd spent so many hours planning and re-planning this.

He couldn't-wouldn't-give that all up now.

But he was going to lose a lot.

And he could have made a different choice.

If there was any time to make a different choice, it was then.

He also didn't realize then how much those around him were going to lose, too.

It was all too much; too much thinking and feeling and second guessing. It was easier to stick with the plan, easier to choose to die.

And if Thor was bothered by his open weeping, if Loki had been clear-headed to hear his older sibling ask him what was wrong, if things could have been different…maybe then Loki would have realized how much he was going to regret this choice. Maybe he would have realized then, in this moment, that life didn't have to always hurt, that hope exists and recovery is possible.


By noon, Loki had made it a few clear hours without crying.

He had given away his art supplies to Andy, the boy who he'd rarely study with for large exams. He had cleared out his locker from the old food that was in there, uneaten and untouched. He even threw away his bad grades to lessen the backlash that might come from his intentional death.

By lunch, Loki had sat back in the front rows of his classes, made jokes, laughed and smiled more than he had all year.

Every puzzle piece was fitting into each other nicely.

He even made it to the end of the day before seeing Thor again. He steered his emotions to calmer waters as he cautiously approached his sibling.

Thor turned away from his friends and smiled so happily at Loki.

It made Loki's heart break more than he thought it would.

Before Thor could say anything to make Loki whimper and sob, he asked, "So, what time is your party at?"

Thor bristled a little, unsure as to why his brother had skipped their pleasantries then reminding himself that that had been happening a lot lately.

"Three!" Thor said excitedly. "Have you changed-?"

"No," Loki stated then added, "brother." He shifted on his feet in a representation of his own anxieties about the party and what he was about to ask next. "What time will you be home by?" He felt like mother so much that he smiled.

Thor must have thought much the same. His smile broadened and he chuckled.

"Probably by seven, school night and all."

"Good, I'll see you then and father won't get nearly as mad at that compromise." Loki smiled faintly, turning to go before pausing.

Without another thought he turned back to Thor and brought him into a hug. With one thin hand cradling his brother's neck, he whispered only to Thor, "I love you, Thor. Never forget that."

In the moment that he held Thor close for a minute too long he heard Thor's reply in his ear: "I love you, too, brother."

And when he cried to himself on the walk home, this time he didn't even feel bad about it at all.

He was still crying when he unlocked the front door of his family's home.

Odin wouldn't be home until after seven from work.

Thor wouldn't be home from about the same time.

And mother wouldn't be home at all.

He was alone.

Completely and utterly alone-making him cry harder; there was no one there to relate to his pain, no one there to hold his hand, no one there to talk him out of it. He was by himself. Alone.

The house was empty and silent-so after he collected the tall glass of water, the suicide letters he had kept under his pillow from the night before and his clock radio to keep him company, he wormed his way to the bathroom, shutting the door behind him with an audible click.

He set down his cell phone on the counter, next placing the glass beside it and the radio to the right. He rifled through his sweatshirt pockets, dumping out the contents to the floor and purposefully setting the suicide letters onto the tile too, closer to the gap between the door.

Next, he opened the medicine cabinet, finding Grandpa Henry's old medication.

He took the orange bottle in his trembling hand before he could think better of it. When he dumped out the pills, he clasped his hands around the cool granite.

He took a stuttering breath, then two, then five. He slipped his suicide notes under the door so that they were now in the hallway. He turned the radio to his favorite station and took one pill into his hand.

When he saw himself pale and thin in the mirror he felt disgusted. He used this self-loathing to place the lone pill in his mouth. He took a swig of water but his throat felt closed up and wouldn't down the foreign item, as if his body were rebelling against the death sentence his brain had thought up.

Soon, the medicine began to dissolve in his mouth, leaving an unpleasant and bitter aftertaste.

On the fifth swallow, it finally went down.

Mechanically, with bursts of anxiety exploding in his vision, he repeated the process over and over, one pill at a time.

When he was certain he'd taken enough, he slid to the back wall until he felt the cool tile on the fabric of his pants.

He waited five minutes, then ten. By fifteen minutes, he heard a different song come on the radio. He felt his thoughts slow down, the giddiness set in as he laughed about nothing at all and everything all at once. Suddenly everything was hilarious and unbeknownst to him his pupils were constricting into tiny dots and his sense of self was wavering at best.

The music danced in the air to Loki, delivering words he hadn't ever heard strung in this same sequence or delivery before. It described someone struggling, struggling like he was, with staying alive. They struggled, too, with wanting to die and wanting to not be alive. They craved it, death; they craved freedom, just like Loki did. Every time before this day that he had found himself praying that someone would save him, they just didn't live up to the heroic gestures existing only in his mind. He knew he didn't matter, he knew he was hurting so deeply to his core that he could never begin to show it. He could never even dream of it: casting his own burdens onto those around him. It was inconceivable-it was, funny, in many ways. They sang of not having a home, not having anyone to call. They sang about no one caring about them, and they didn't care for Loki either. He knew this all too well. They didn't care….

The teenager bobbed along to the music, relating to each lyric line after line, his world shifting around him uncontrollably as he felt his mind detach from his body. It was like this was all happening to someone else other than himself, as though he was unable to control his body from processing the drugs in the way that it was. He felt free floating. He felt…scared.

The beat didn't necessarily change but the words formed new life over the radio as if the message were clearing, as if the light were streaming through. Loki thought he'd been living so long, so immensely, into the darkest corners of his mind. Yet now it was appearing like the light was shining. The light was shining just as he was departing. But, no, wait…

They wanted him to be alive. Loki didn't have to die today.

It was like Thor had appeared just before him, like Thor was the one speaking directly to him. He was telling him to stop, telling him that they could get through this together. Thor was telling him how much Loki mattered. Thor was telling him how much he loved Loki. Thor was there, smiling and grinning down upon him. Thor was there. He was no longer alone.

What are you doing, Loki? Thor asked, then he shifted, turning black and cloudy as a foggy light overcame his silhouette and a brighter replacing light shined from his center expanding outwards. He was luminescent, hard to look at; he spoke to him, his voice low. Loki?

"Who is this?" Loki found himself questioning.

Your will to live, came the response. I am your unmasked potential.

A new voice came into the sequence, the words spiraling in the air around him, making the teenager feel cozy and heard…and seen, even.

It was the breath of fresh, clean air you sucked in after you'd been drowning. It was feeling loved being so closely intertwined with a romantic partner. It was holding onto hope and seeing that even with a long road ahead, there was light to be found, there was someone to be found within all of it. And there was something, he thought he heard, about glimpsing his future self in the mirror, being glad to have survived…

"What are you doing here?" Loki asked, fearfully.

I'm saving you.

"Why? Why do you care?" Loki didn't know whether to laugh or cry so he did both.

Because you deserve to live.

"No, I don't. I'm doing everyone a favor." Loki said with his voice wavering as doubts filled his vision.

Thor loves you. Frigga loves you. Odin cares about you. They all want the best for you and death will not result in your freedom, but wrought more pain over a tragic loss to a great, budding kid. Life isn't just the bad, it's all the good in the world, too.

If you die today, you'll never get to reread the Harry Potter books you enjoy so much or watch another sunset and the colors stream across the sky. If you die today you won't get to hear another Panic! At the Disco song, new musicians, new artists. If you die today, you won't get to experience friendship, chocolate chip cookies on a warm day, mother's hugs, and Thor's eternal optimism. You won't feel the rain on your skin again. You won't get to pet cute kittens. You won't get to simply breathe again-truly and beautifully.

If you die today it ends all the pain and life isn't just pain. It's hope in the darkness, light in the sky, meaning in your veins and worth in every crevice of you.

The lyricist continued into the expanding room, the notes hitting Loki's ears as he tried to stay with the moment, tried to stay grounded in his skin, skin that felt like it was sloughing off, never to be seen from again.

They knew where he was, they knew where this road was taking him. They saw. They understood. They thought he was important, they thought he was worth shedding light that even though life was hard, it was so hard, it was still worth living. That somehow, in some way, Loki, himself, had everything in the world to live for. It made his eyes water with uncertainty. The certainty of dying fading from his bluing lips, fading from his consciousness as he swam in feelings of not being real, of his fantasy not playing out into fruition, of thinking about second chances and surviving, somehow, the ultimate cruelty of the present moment.

"But…I'm hurting." Loki whimpered, reminding himself of how alone he was in this cold, cold room.

Your hurt won't last forever. There is hope. There is help. You can be okay again. Your worth is not determined by your weight on a scale or the amount of calories you ingest.

What if tomorrow you feel differently?

What if you felt better in two months, two years?

What if there could have been more in store for you?

What if you could be the change in someone else's world?

A new voice, angelic in nature, filtered through the cobwebs as he heard them say they wanted to be alive. They wanted to be alive. They didn't want to die now. They just wanted to live.

Tears sprang to his eyes even further, sliding down his cheeks, his reality from his actions sinking in.

Suicide is a permanent action to a temporary crisis. A crisis is time sensitive. That means it will pass.

So call for help, please.

Because I want you to live. Thor needs you. Mother needs you, and although he doesn't know it yet, father wants you too.

There's nothing in this world that can bring you back when you're gone, Loki.

You deserve freedom but death is not freedom.

When you live you can feel. When you're dead, you cannot. That's it. Game over. You are given all but one life to live and that is all. What you choose to do with it is up to each one of us. You can choose to live or you can choose to die, but you cannot choose both.

You have so much left to live. Don't take that away from yourself.

You are worthy.

You are loved.

You are needed.

You are not alone.

Some day you will feel true happiness again. It won't erase the pain but make life tolerable. From there you will grow and change in strength. It's okay to ask for help.

Vulnerability is a strength.

So, please live. Loki, please live.

Because tomorrow could make all the difference.

A final perspective carried towards Loki, Loki being the fallen teenager on a bathroom floor in his house, alone, in the dark chasms of his mind, just barely finding his way through the streetlights up ahead. The voice spoke of feeling alone upon their journey and that pain wasn't the same for everyone. Just like how this song he was hearing now wouldn't be interpreted the same way by others. They spoke of going forwards regardless of how out of breath they'd be, how much their knees would buckle, how much they'd want to give up coursing through their veins.

But they didn't want to cry anymore. They didn't want to die anymore. They finally, finally, made it to a day where they wanted to be alive.

Maybe, maybe Loki could find this to be true for himself, too.

"Who are you?" Loki asked again, his hand already hovering over his cell phone before he could realize it.

Maybe there was still time to undo this. Maybe he was worth something after all.

I am you. I am the you inside who wants to live. We all have it. Suicide's greatest lie is convincing us that we want something else, but when we're faced with death, we realize how much we had yet to live. We realize before death, or perceived death, that we wanted to live, and the regret we feel is immeasurable. We regret the choice we took to land us there. And some make it through their ideation, and some don't.

I am your voice of recovery. I will be here when you wake up and I will be here when you realize how grateful you are to live another day. Because pain isn't forever.

"Don't leave me," Loki pleaded.

Never, Loki. I am always here for you.

"I'll-I'll text Thor."

Loki realized then how shaky his voice reverberated in his throat and how slow his breaths were coming.

"I-I need help," Loki mumbled as though the words were foreign to him.

Yes, Loki. You need help. And that's okay.

Loki's vision blurred again from all his tears, he hadn't realized he could cry this much, when he placed his phone back down and his text had sent to Thor.

"I told him I wasn't feeling well," Loki explained to himself, to his inner experience.

Maybe something more urgent would help.

Loki smiled reluctantly.

"Who should we try next?" Loki asked, unsure about how this was already playing out. Did this make him weak? Did this mean he lacked conviction? What would people say about him?

Call Odin.

"I'd rather be dead," Loki easily replied.

If you don't, you will be.

Loki blinked, slowly.

"Maybe this is a bad idea."

Maybe he was not worth enough.

"I-I can't think."

It's the drugs taking effect on you. You need to tell someone. You need to say it.

"Say what?"

That you tried to kill yourself. Loki, someone needs to know. This is an emergency. What would you tell someone who is having a heart attack? Would you sit them down and tell them how it's all in their head and that there's eternal damnation waiting for them in the afterlife? Or would you take them to get help? This is no different to that. You need help, now.

Open the phone and call Odin. What do you have to lose?

He opened his father's contact information and waited for the rings to subside, nodding off here and there, was he just calling a minute ago or was that a lie too? Was this the best decision in the long run? But he still couldn't think clearly, he just had to listen to the voice inside his gut and although it was twisted up in knots and he felt like he had people running around the office in his skull freaking the fuck out, he thought this was, maybe, the right thing to do.

"Hello?" Odin answered on the fourth ring.

"Dad?" Loki felt sleepier than ever at that moment, cradling the phone in his hand and looking for something he was afraid he'd never find. He couldn't help but cozy up on the cold floor, lying his ear down on the white tile as the room swam around him.

"Loki? Why are you calling?" Odin asked, struck between frustrations and…was that concern? For Loki?

"Dad, I-I'm sorry. You don't care but I….I need help."

"Help with what? Loki, I'm busy at work, I'll be home by-" Odin began but Loki interrupted.

"Seven, I know. I think I'll be dead by then. I took some pills. Everything's really fuzzy. I tried to kill myself. I'm sorry."

I thought I could hold on for longer, Loki thought to himself. I thought things were better this way. I thought you wouldn't care. I thought everything was going to be all right.

Loki thought all these thoughts but his mind wasn't cooperating. He heard the faint outcry of his father on the phone, or maybe he hadn't ever called at all. He just knew how sleepy he was. So, so sleepy.

The cool touch of the floor felt nice all of a sudden.

Maybe this was it.

Just coolness, just nothingness, just, just, just….

A/N: Why hello again! I'm not sure when exactly this gets uploaded, but it's likely been a few days so, hi again. You know when you do that thing where you write something and re-read it so many times over that it just sounds like gibberish? Yeah, that's me with this chapter.

I find it fascinating that I don't believe this chapter or story is triggering me when I thought that it might, and maybe it would have at any other point in time, but I thought it was only fair to write a lot when it comes to Loki's inner self wondering the what if's of his decision and whether he was doing the "right thing" as I wrote a lot for the attempt itself. I don't know, just evening it out a smidge. The next chapter picks up right from here so that will be interesting to say the least!

I used Google to help me identify some of the symptoms of Loki's OD while also using my small amount of experience from when I something similar four years ago. I drew on my own experiences with the bold text for Loki's voice of recovery, as you may be able to tell. It wasn't something (the bold text) in my original plan for this story and it's potentially overwhelming and scattered but I wanted to throw everything possible out there and hope that something stuck with Loki and what he felt as he was going through this hard time. I hope that it sounds genuine, as that's where I was coming from. Think of it as me inserting my recovery self into the story very boldly and deliberately. Maybe even saying what we were all thinking. xxx Additionally, because we're not the same, Loki and I (in this story, although I suppose for most of my plots too), I know what I would do in the situation that's different than what he would do. This story has evolved, like many others, in more ways than one and I hope that it's still enjoyable and interesting for you all.

Also, if you'd like I have an article I wrote in my uni's newspaper featuring the 1800 song called: "Say the Word Suicide: Give it Time" if you're curious and all. Did you like the username reference too? Hehehe.

But yeah, I thought this would be more triggering than it is but I haven't found that to be the case yet. It's kinda like when I'm writing this story nothing else exists so the escapism is really, really nice. :]

Any who, that's all I shall say for now!

Looking forward to the complexities that will arise after this chapter!

Stay safe, peeps. xxxx

Written: 4.7 & 4.10.19

Edited: 4.10.2019; 4.11.19

Featured song (I don't own the lyrics in Italics): "1800 273 8255" by Logic which is the suicide prevention lifeline for the USA and is the same number that was in that pamphlet that Mrs. Greene handed over (which we'll see again later) ;] I should also note that I don't believe Loki ingested all of the pills but that detail will be left ambiguous overall.

Background songs to writing this chapter: "1800"; "You Say" by Lauren Daigle, "Hold On" by Chord Overstreet.

Thank you so much for reading!

Here's a tissue and the hope for a brighter chapter ahead! *hugs* :]

MAJOR EDIT: 9.24.20:

I had to remove the song lyrics because I'm a silly goose and messed up when not analyzing or critically understanding FFN/fan fic rules in general. So, uh, sorry about that! If you see anything else in my stories that sound too lyrically done, let me know. It still made me cry either way ahaha. I've no idea how I'm going to address this in some of my other creative endeavors but that's something I'll have to worry about later.

Ooof. Major, major ooof. Hope you're all doing okay! xxx