Unbroken (Loki x Reader)

Chapter 13 - Storms

A clash of thunder wakes you.

You jolt upright, chest heaving in frightened, disoriented gasps. Tangled in sweat-laden sheets, you reach out for Loki beside you. But your hand falls into cold blankets. You let it rest there, empty in the place where he used to lay. And you remember where you are. 

Another crash of thunder booms, followed by a flash of lightning. It startles you, and you realize that you never knew how much grief feels like fear. 

With lead-filled legs and a pounding headache, you pull yourself from bed and move to the bathroom. You raise the lights - but only to their lowest setting as in their dim glow you take in the site of yourself in the mirror. Hair tangled, nose raw - the pale green  kyrtill you still wear from Asgard stained on the neck and shoulder straps by your tears. You struggle to tear your eyes away from your own wretched form.

Your eyes. 

They're startling. Manic, red-rimmed and empty. Frighteningly akin to those you witnessed in the face of the old man at the tavern. 

Another crack of thunder pulls you from your own thoughts, and your heart sinks as you recall your conversation with Thor on the valley ridge. You wonder if each flash of lightning is his way of lashing out. At you. For the decision you've made.

"I'm sorry," you whisper, tearing your eyes from your own reflection to glance out the window across the room. "I...didn't have a choice."

Another low growl of thunder rattles the window panes. You drift toward them, and press a hand against the cold glass. Outside the clouds gather in strange, almost other-wordly clusters. But no rain falls. Instead, lightning flashes in creeping, crawling tendrils that unfurl like horizontal tree roots within the clouds themselves. 

It's beautiful. And frightening. 

Exhausted, but desperate to get a better look at whatever is happening in the sky, you don't bother to change or even grab a coat as you abandon your room and take the elevator back to the balcony you had landed on hours earlier. The moment you step outside the wind catches at your back and nearly pushes you forward in its fury as angry black and purple storm clouds swirl overhead. The edges of your dress whip around your ankles and your hair flies as you take several steps toward the center of the balcony, Loki's ribbon clutched in hand. As you near the railing another flash of lighting crawls across the sky, its branches and tendrils spanning the entire skyline, followed closely by an impossibly loud, fierce thunder. Your legs grow weak and you stagger, grabbing the railing for support.

"I know," you whisper. "I'm sorry, Thor."

As soon as you utter the words, the sky splits, as if torn open by God's hands. Rain falls - sharp and cold as each droplet stings your face.

"Heimdall," you whisper. "Remember your promise. Please," you beg.

As the storm rages, you wrap your arms around yourself and hold your sides tight as you once more begin to weep, your tears of anguish turning quickly to ones of anger. You start to scream as the gales pick up, allowing your voice to be drowned out by the howling winds. In so loud a space, it's almost as if you can't hear anything.

Silence in the chaos.

As you scream into the overwhelmingly loud silence, your anger grows and mutates into rage. Seething in fury, you grab one of the black planter boxes and rip it from its weak plastic box frame, tossing it across the balcony. You scream profanities and curses as you stomp on the lawn chairs and break them in two. Tears stream down your face as you rip the flowers from their stone pots shouting in righteous anger over and over and over, until two strong hands grab your shoulders. You whirl around, lashing out with your dirt-covered fists as the hands pull you into a warm, dry chest. They hold you close until you stop fighting, and instead break down into sobs. Sinking to the ground, whoever holds you follows. You glance up to find kind blue eyes looking back with nothing but compassion. Sorrow. Understanding. 

"I'm here," Steve says above the wind.

Without a thought, Steve pulls you closer as you cry into his chest. He holds you tight, resting his cheek on your head as the rain continues to fall, soaking the both of you.

When you start shivering, Steve picks you up, and carries you back inside. You don't say a word, your throat hoarse from the shouting. Instead, you let your head rest on his shoulder as he carries you back to your room, setting you down gently in the bathroom on a chair. 

Steve starts to run a bath, but you're too tired to object. Filling it with a few bubbles, Steve gives you a nod when it's ready, then steps out, closing the door behind him.

You strip from your wet, cold dress and step hesitantly into the bath before finding it to be the perfect temperature, and sinking in beneath the bubbles.

After a few moments, Steve knocks at the door. But you don't respond. He knocks again, but when met with silence once more he cracks the door. "Can I come in?" he asks gently. "Are you covered?"

You pull your knees to your chest below the water in the bathroom's massive tub, safely covered by a thick layer of bubbles. But you don't speak. You can't. Steve understands your silence, and steps into the bathroom, sitting on the floor across the room. 

"I'm sorry, Y/n," he says quietly. 

Numb from the emotional exertion of the past day, you have absolutely nothing left to give. And as much as you wish you could start crying again, anything to let out the anguish you feel growing like a balloon in your chest. But you have simply nothing left to give.

Not even enough to want to Bleed. 

So instead you float forward in the giant tub, leaning your arms over the edge to look down at Steve on the floor several paces away.

"Does it go away?" you ask quietly. "The pain?"

Steve gives you a small, sad smile. "No," he says. "But it changes. And one day you'll wake up and realize that what was once pain at losing someone is now...wonder. Wonder at the incredible love you shared. That's what grief is, Y/n. It's the price we pay for love. It is love enduring."

You slide back down in the tub, and cast a glance at Loki's gold ribbon that you set an arm's length away.

*Knock* *Knock*

Two small, rapid knocks at the door catches your attention, and Steve stands, opening the door. On the other side stands Natasha. She peers in with wide, worried eyes.

"Is everything okay?" she asks Steve.

"Not yet," he answers softly. 

Natasha sighs and steps inside, squeezing Steve's shoulder and giving him an appraising nod before making her way to the tub's edge and placing a chaste, comforting kiss on your forehead.

"Are you all right, Y/n?" she asks, concerned. You shake your head no, and Nat runs her thumb along your cheek before crossing the bathroom and taking a seat next to Steve.

"We've got a new mission, Steve," Nat says. 

"What? Right now?" he says, standing.

"Yeah, right now," says Nat remaining seated on the floor, pulling him back down by the hem of his shirt. "Mission: Forget About the Boy," she says with a small laugh.

You can't help the small twitch of a smile on your lips. Despite the aching grief in your heart, there's also relief in being back with your family.

"Would help if we had a lay of the land," Natasha says. "If you're ready."

"Pepper didn't talk to you?" you whisper, breaking your silence.

"No," Steve says quickly. "And we didn't ask. Not our place."

You sigh and let yourself slip fully under the bath's water. As water fills your ears and covers you from head to toe, you take a moment to meditate. One of Phil's techniques. And when you come back up, you leave your anger beneath the water.

"Okay," you say, wiping the water from your eyes. "I'll tell you what happened."

For the next hour, you share with Nat and Steve all of the events that had taken place over the last two weeks. As they sit, listening to you in silence, you can't help but find that your heart feels just a fraction lighter.