Chapter 336: Loki — "I'm Not Leaving!"
"Sweetheart, you're awake. Drink up your porridge." Just as Loki opened his mouth to say something less than flattering about Ethan, Grandma Lin cut him off.
Loki looked up to find her holding out a steaming bowl of porridge, her eyes brimming with something warm — motherly, almost.
A strange, indescribable feeling welled up inside him — something in that gaze felt like his own mother, long absent from his life, and the warmth of it pulled him in almost against his will.
He'd had no real expectations for the plain-looking bowl in front of him — he'd honestly assumed it would have next to no flavor at all.
But something in Grandma Lin's expression got through to him, and before he'd quite decided to, he found himself taking the bowl from her hands.
She smiled at him, her eyes full of quiet hope and encouragement.
Loki wrestled with himself internally. I must be losing my mind, drinking this pitiful excuse for a meal. But a moment later, he reconsidered — this bowl was clearly offered from the heart, and he couldn't bring himself to reject it outright.
He closed his eyes and drank the first mouthful with the grim resolve of a man walking to his own execution. To his genuine surprise, it wasn't nearly as bad as he'd braced for.
Loki's eyes flew open. He stared at Grandma Lin, startled, then glanced down at the bowl in his hands.
This porridge wasn't nearly as ordinary as it looked — it tasted, somehow, almost enchanted, deeply, unexpectedly delicious. He drank it down mouthful after mouthful, and with every sip, it felt as if he were tasting something far larger than just food.
"If it's good, drink more, sweetheart. You're so pale — you must've been starving," Grandma Lin said, her voice warm through and through, watching him carefully, the way one might watch their own grandson.
For a brief moment, something flickered across Loki's face — a flicker of avoidance. He wasn't used to this kind of warmth. Wasn't used to being cared for without reason.
A strange, restless irritation stirred in his chest. He'd grown used to coldness and solitude over the years — this sudden, unprovoked kindness left him with no idea what to do with himself.
"Thank you. For saving me." As irritated as he felt, Loki wasn't so petty as to take it out on an old woman.
With that, he turned to leave the kitchen, his steps a little too quick — as if he were fleeing something.
Just then, America stepped forward and murmured quietly to Grandma Lin. "Grandma, his name's Loki."
Grandma Lin nodded, smiling as she spoke to Loki once more. "Sweetheart, if you don't have anywhere to stay, this is your home now. It's not much, but if you don't mind it — there's always a hot meal and a warm bed waiting for you here."
Loki's steps faltered at those words.
He glanced back at her, something complicated flickering behind his eyes.
He said nothing, though — just quietly left the kitchen.
He'd only made it a short distance from the house before he stopped, turning back to look at the crumbling old building, his expression tangled with conflicting emotions.
"What foolish creatures, these humans really are. She barely has the health to look after herself, and still she takes in a whole household of others.
A gaggle of the weak, the elderly, the infirm — and they take me in too, without a second thought? Aren't they afraid I might be a villain?
Are all humans on this planet this idiotic?" Loki muttered, his gaze conflicted.
He genuinely couldn't understand why this old woman insisted on meddling in other people's misfortune. Her own living conditions were already this dire — why waste what little she had on causes that gained her nothing?
If she lived alone, surely her own life would be far better off.
And these children — not one of them had any use to anyone. What could the old woman possibly be gaining from all this?
What Loki found hardest to stomach was the way looking at her felt uncomfortably close to looking at his own mother — it left him with a strange, twisted discomfort he couldn't quite name.
He didn't understand the feeling. If Ethan had been standing there, he'd have told him exactly what it was called: shame.
"Not everyone has to be selfless the way Grandma Lin is. And kindness shouldn't get mistaken for stupidity. Selfless goodness like hers has more or less vanished from Brooklyn already." Loki noticed America had stepped out behind him.
America didn't look at him. She just kept talking, almost to herself. "If it weren't for people like Grandma Lin, these kids would probably already be dead — starved, or killed by the gangs around here. That includes you. And me."
"I ended up unconscious in Brooklyn myself, for reasons of my own. Grandma Lin was the one who saved me. To pay her back, I've just... stayed here ever since." She looked out at the children still tumbling around in play.
"You don't want to go home?" Loki studied the girl, his gut telling him she was carrying some story of her own, one she hadn't told.
"Home? I don't even know if I still can go back. But in this world — this is my home." She looked over at Loki.
Loki found himself unable to hold her gaze and looked away without quite meaning to. He wasn't entirely sure what exactly he was afraid of.
He changed the subject. "You used to talk about Hell's Kitchen so fondly — so why not just take these kids there directly? Doesn't that useless Ethan character supposedly take in orphans?"
America looked off toward Hell's Kitchen. "That's right. Ethan would take in the kids and Grandma both. But once we're inside Hell's Kitchen, we'd all get split up — the kids would go to an orphanage, Grandma would go to a dedicated care home, and I'd almost certainly be sent to the Hell's Kitchen Community School."
At that, Loki had to grudgingly admit Ethan actually seemed to genuinely care. He asked, confused, "That sounds like a good outcome to me. What's the actual problem? Why wouldn't you go?"
America shook her head and turned the question back on him. "Do you have a home?"
Loki froze. Did he have a home? Was Asgard even his home anymore?
He supposed... it probably was.
"Is a home you get torn away from even still a home? None of them want that — not the kids, not Grandma," America answered.
Loki fell silent at that. Scheming, magic, trickery — those he could handle. This particular subject was one he genuinely had no skill with.
America turned the question back on him. "And if you left — where would you even go?"
Loki didn't answer. Because he honestly didn't know.
And there was no point lying about it — the girl standing in front of him could see straight through any lie he tried.
"If you've really got nowhere else, you might as well stay here a day or two before you go. Play big brother to the kids for a bit. Consider it paying Grandma back for saving your life."
"Besides — look at that scrawny frame of yours. You've probably got no ID, no papers, nothing. Grandma's about the only person kind enough to take in someone like you."
Loki didn't even let her finish before he turned and walked straight back toward the house.
"Hey — where are you going?"
"Isn't it... obvious? Back inside."
"So you're staying?"
"I'm staying."
"Great — tomorrow you're coming with me to work a shift!"
"I am the Second Prince of Asgard, the God of Mischief, destined to destroy Ethan himself — and you want me to go work a shift?!"
"Hey! Aqiu!" Who's yelling at me?
"Is the Infinity Gauntlet finished yet or not? Tony!"
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