Cellmates

11

Loki waited for her to settle again before he even thought about sleep. He retreated back into his own space, curling into his chair, too tired to even read. But he waited. She sat at the edge of her cot, nibbling without comment on the food he had given her. And after she'd done away with most of it, she finally went to sleep, wrapping herself up in her blanket with a quiet sigh. He mirrored her relief-filled exhale as he finally dropped into his own bed. He fumbled briefly with the sheets before giving up completely and just flopping onto his back. The ceiling was a lovely view so long as his body was free to relax against a mattress. And not the floor, which had been the case more than once in the past few weeks.

His mind drifted but sleep still eluded him, so he was simply dragged along by his erratic train of thought. But he knew ultimately where it would lead. For weeks, even without consciousness, she commanded his attention. And try as he might to put her aside – to ignore her or escape her for even a moment – it always came back to her. Naomi.

Tonight had not been the smooth transition to the waking world that he had hoped for. It had never occurred to him that in her foggy state of mind she might not remember anything. She had taken so much comfort in his presence for all those nights, but without any forethought or logic, she didn't have time to consider that she had curled into the lap of a frost giant – that with that alone she had taken her life into her own hands. How easily could he have done to her what he did to the guards? How easily could he have done to her what those mindless animals had done to her? The monster parents tell their children about at night.

It hurt, like a wolf had made a meal of his heart, to recall her receptive, adoring self, but see the fear that struck her when he got too close. No closer than they had been before, but she knew better now – knew that he couldn't be trusted. Even in her short and voluntary embrace, he felt her heart race against his own. She was afraid. A fraction of her panic attack before, but still measurable terror. And rightly so. He could hardly place his own intent in this situation and he couldn't trust himself not to harm her. Because that was where every road ended for him. Pain and disappointment. The monster parents tell their children about at night.

But Naomi didn't seem to see it that way. With the way she reacted, it probably had more to do with her last disgustingly intimate encounter. It was never my intent to make her uncomfortable – and certainly not to scare her. But he couldn't resist. Before she had been rather receptive, but now things were different. Her shell of sarcasm and insults got in the way. What happened to her got in the way. This damn pane of glass is in the way. But it was more than comforting to see even a glimpse of who she was before all of this. She was still in there somewhere. She just needed a little more time.

For a while, it was only wishful thinking that things could be this way. After the utter desertion she felt, she had been more than certain she would die in this place – alone and forgotten. Alone and forgotten. His doppelganger disappeared, but Loki was still there. Still present. And still – against her previous expectations – watching over her. He didn't retreat into his usual solitude. He wasn't closed off anymore. He meant to protect her, he said so himself. It wasn't another one of her imagined inferences this time. For whatever reason – regret as it seemed – he cared for her. That thought continued to float around in her head, never quite settling. After tonight – after being shocked into this surreal state of existence – the simplest things made no sense anymore.

Loki flopped into his chair looking dead tired, but he didn't sleep. He didn't even get into bed until she had done so first. Once she slipped back into her cot, he finally retired. He all but collapsed into his bed, not even bothering with the sheets. And he was shortly asleep after that.

Surely this was just a dream? What the heck happened these past few days? She wrapped herself tighter in her blanket – the one Loki had obviously gifted to her. How could she even begin to believe all of this? What the heck could have happened to change him so dramatically? He went from this brooding, acerbic, and dejected shell of a person – alien – god – whatever – to being this nurturing caretaker. He had gone from selfish to selfless in an instant with some miraculous change of heart. Surely she was just comatose or something? Yes, that's it. I starved to the point of no return and I am simply imagining all of this so that I kick the bucket on a wishfully pleasant note. That made so much more sense. Of course, if it was all about wish fulfillment, why would she be so determined to prove otherwise?