Christmas at the Lang's: Book Four

3

No one left until ten that night. Hank being Hank and Hope being Hope, they and Janet left first (at least Hope had the decency to kiss him before they left, because Scott felt forgotten) and Maggie and Paxton left soon after. Cassie decided to stay at Scott's for the night, probably because she realised her dad would let her eat as much chocolate as she wanted whereas her mum would force her to go to bed early. Clearly Loki and Stephen were staying – there wouldn't have been any point in Scott inviting them today if they weren't.

The four of them retired back into the sitting room. Before long, Cassie left to go to bed, and Scott was left alone with Loki and Stephen.

Scott was vaguely watching the TV, which was playing some weird Christmas film, absently snacking on his chocolate for something to do with his mouth. Only an hour and a half until Christmas. That was mad... where had this year gone?

None of them spoke for a minute or so. Cassie had taken the conversation away with her.

"Your family is actually so great, Scott," Loki said, suddenly.

"They are pretty awesome," Scott agreed. "I mean, most of the time I just want to kill them. Except Cassie. Cassie's great. But usually I want to kill the others. But I love them to pieces and they love me to pieces back and I couldn't do without them."

Loki nodded absently. "Sounds like my family, except without the love. Just the killing bit actually."

Scott looked at Loki. He wasn't sure what was worse: what he'd said or the casual tone in which he'd said it. "You're joking, right?"

"No," Loki said. "Seriously, we didn't love each other, like, at all. Except mother."

That was beyond sad. Scott had heard about Loki's troubles with his family, of course, but he'd never actually talked about it properly before, so Scott had no clue what was up. "Why, is Thor, like, a total jackass or something?"

Loki made a sound that could have either been a cough or laugh. "Well, I mean, not so much now, but my first thousand years were practically torture having him around. But it was Odin who was the total son of a bitch."

"Wait, Odin's your dad?" Scott interrupted, and both Stephen and Loki stared at him. "I thought he was Greek Mythology."

"Uh... no," Loki said, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"Oh," Scott said, and quickly grabbed his phone. "Hang on a second."

"Are you Googling Odin?" Stephen asked in disbelief.

"No, he's Googling "Who is Loki's dad in mythology?" Strange," Loki said, facepalming himself. "Scott, you can be a real douchebag at times."

"Google says Odin isn't your dad," Scott insisted, even holding up his phone as if he needed to prove it. "Google knows all."

Loki stared at Scott in disbelief and couldn't help himself from bursting into laughter. "Wow. Just wow. Scott, listen to yourself. You're trying to tell me I don't know who my own dad is. Of course I know who he is. I killed him."

The silence that followed was so quiet the sound of Stephen biting his chocolate could be heard. Scott stared at Loki. "You killed Odin?!"

"Um, that wasn't who I meant, but I guess I technically killed him too," Loki said.

Scott was getting incredibly confused. His big brain was starting to hurt. "So Odin wasn't your dad?"

"He was," Loki said, further confusing the hell out of Scott.

"But then... do you have two dads?" Scott asked, feeling his brain combust.

"I did, they're both dead now," Loki confirmed as though it cleared everything up. At the look on Scott's face, he must've decided this required further explanation. "I'm adopted."