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I wanted to bury the blade I held in my hands. Loki's blade. Perhaps the only thing I had left of him now.
While we had grown apart due to—circumstances—it didn't mean that I hated him. In fact, I had begun to see what Thor had been trying to tell me about. How Loki was not the same from 2012, whose only goal was to rule Earth. How Loki had, finally, seemed to want to do good.
I had seen it, briefly. Until the final battle against Thanos, in 2023. Until I lost sight of Loki with no hopes of recovering him quickly under all of the Avenger Facility rubble.
He's faced worse odds. Perhaps he's still buried somewhere, alive. I didn't want to believe that the Trickster God was dead. He'd played opossum a few times, a little too well I might add. Perhaps this time was no different.
Thor and Steve had offered to return with me to the facility's destruction. More pairs of eyes couldn't hurt, I figured, so I allowed it. Besides, Thor would insist no matter how many times I refused, and Steve was...well, Steve. Regardless if he was my husband or not, he would've insisted on helping in the search.
The blue skies above did not reflect the devastation we walked upon. So much debris...it was hard to accurately remember where I was walking through currently. Had it been one of our rooms? A training room? Kitchen? Lounging area? Everything had taken quite the beating, so it was hard to say.
The three of us split, searching the grounds. Debris could be heard moving around, but I knew it was either Steve or Thor. Stuff like this couldn't possibly kill Loki. The aliens or...or Thanos could. I had been pulled in so many different directions that if Loki had indeed faced the Titan, I didn't see it.
The longer our search went, the more my doubts began to grow. I had a few working theories, none of which I liked very much. Loki was either dead, unconscious somewhere under here, or had fled in the midst of battle to save his own skin. Any of the three sounded likely.
Maybe he didn't change after all. Maybe he ran to save his own hide, leaving the rest of us to deal with all the chaos. Why wouldn't he want in on it?
The birds communicating overhead did nothing to improve my mood. I tried to not get high hopes as I turned over heavy pieces of debris, in fear that if I did find Loki, I'd find him not breathing.
Time stretched on painfully. For all we knew, we could've been here for only a short while. My hands were torn up from moving debris, my fingers ached. I was mentally exhausted.
Anything? I asked Steve and Thor. Please tell me you have something, either of you.
Nothing, came Thor's tepid response.
Nothing, came Steve's somber one.
We've barely scratched the surface. We can't leave anything unturned. We'll be here for days if that's what it takes, I insisted, shouldering some debris out of my way. If I'd had the power, moving all this with my mind would've saved my body some ache.
