Part 1: A Light in the Darkness

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A/N: hey guys how's it going?? I'm back at it again at Krispy Kreme with another fic series!! this one is going to be for Loki and will involve equal amounts of fluff, angst, friendship, romance, and everything in between. I really hope you enjoy it !!

**reader is gender-neutral  :) **

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Are you dead?

I think I'm dead.

But if I'm alive, where is the sound? It's like someone pressed mute on the world. And I can't see anything. I'm scared.

That's new. A thought like that hasn't been present in ... a while.

But I'm scared, and that's how I know this is bad. Real bad.

I feel a choking sensation in my lungs like they're being squeezed together by a pair of ghostly hands that reek of fire and smoke and burning things. I can't handle suffocation. Something is triggered inside me and I feel a build-up of nausea surface in my throat.

I twist my body and retch to the side. The action feels both relieving and excruciatingly painful because something in my abdomen screams and I wonder if I have a broken rib.

That wouldn't be surprising.

"Come on, man, I liked those shoes."

The voice is muffled. Cotton around my head. I can barely hear, and there's a faint ringing in my brain that won't go away. I think that's bad, but I don't know. I don't really know much now, except that I am hurting everywhere that's possible to hurt and I don't know where I am.

Suddenly I'm being lifted off my feet and it hurts so much that a scream tears from my throat, but I can't hear it. Something is pulsing, white-hot pain in my thigh and sharp electric currents shooting like wishful comets through my abdomen. It hurts so much. I want to tell whoever is lifting me that it hurts, but I can't form words. But I can scream, I think. I settle for that, but it doesn't make me feel better.

Sound is creeping into my head like hesitant tides on the beach and everything is cloudy. I hear shouts, some sound angry and others sound concerned but I don't know who they belong to. The arms are still holding me, and they're strong and harsh. I wish they would let me go. They're bruising me.

A figure comes into my foggy line of vision, someone wearing all black. I see curly red hair. It's dirty and ashy, but it shines in the sun and I like it. I focus on that shiny copper glistening like a penny, like a penny you find randomly on the street. A small stroke of good luck.

The figure opens their mouth and my deluded brain hears something like, "Letter snow." The words sound so ridiculous to me that I laugh aloud. The arms tighten angrily and my laughs morph into strangled cries because ow, that fucking hurt.

And suddenly I'm dropped on the ground, sending a jolt of everything horrible through my entire body. Something warm and liquidy is streaming down my face. I don't know if it's blood or sweat.

My vision is getting a bit better. I see the pretty copper hair flying wildly in the wind. I see a pair of strong arms punching, and I realize that those same arms were holding me painfully just before. They're fighting. I try to tune out the ringing in my ears to hear what's going on, but it's too hard. Every ounce of my being is screaming. I can almost feel my atoms splitting apart.

With excruciating slowness, my vision and hearing come into focus. Unfortunately, with regaining consciousness, the pain becomes more relevant. I try moving my mouth to form words, to yell for someone because getting up right now is impossible for me. I feel like I weigh a hundred thousand pounds of pure agony. My tongue is like a giant wad of cotton, and my mouth is bone dry, probably from screaming.

"Help."

That's all I can say. Black spots waltz in my line of sight and it reminds me of those terrifying shadows that dance on your walls at night and keep you awake in fear. These black spots I know can't be good. My stomach feels like it was used as a punching bag, and then got shot a million times with Clint's "oopsie" arrows. Those are the bad ones, the explosive ones.

And then I hear loud, anxious footsteps, heavy on the ground. I see the beautiful sun itself, gold and glowing majestically like a king on his throne. It's too bright for me so I close my eyes. I am lifted off the ground again, but these arms are not like the others; they're comforting and soft, and they hold me like they're protecting me. The other arms were harsh and deliberate as if they didn't care if I was dead or alive. I like these arms. The sleeves are rough under my fingertips as I stroke them gratefully.

Whoever is holding me is running, and every quick step they take jolts all the areas of my body that are in pain. I let out a cry because I don't know what else to say.

A voice, low and urgent, says, "I'm sorry."

I should recognize that voice. I try to think of a face that matches it, but there are black spots that are mocking me and I hear screams so all I can think of is the shiny gold sun that I saw. I thought about that sun and how it glowed ethereally. It makes me feel warm inside, knowing I'm being taken care of by that soft, glowing golden light.

I hear something that sounds like, "Hold on," but that beautiful sun put me in a warm daze, and everything else seemed to melt away. I hear a muffled something near my ear, something soft and caring. Like that golden glow. I don't know what it says, but I like the way it sounds, so I decide to let go finally and think of it as I drift away.

There is a swallowing darkness coming for me but all I see is that sun. That glowing, golden sun... 

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A/N: hope you're intrigued! i wonder what that "glowing, golden sun" is .... hmmm...

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