The Other One(STOPPED WRITING)

Chapter 94: Curfew-breaker...

Loki finally finished his ice cream, but he made a mess of it on the table. He had to clean that up, even though he insisted multiple times to just leave it that way.

We were now on Stark's motorcycle, riding down a street that I don't know the name of. I don't know the name of most streets because I'm usually never driving. Loki doesn't even know the name of the street where Stark's tower is located.

"Where are we going?" Loki asks.
"I don't know, where do you wanna go?" I ask. I was just turning down different streets. I didn't want to go back to the tower yet. I needed a distraction from what I heard. A part of me hoped I'd hear something again. I want to know the voice, but it was too quick. I only know two people who could read minds or get into them. One wouldn't though, and the other couldn't.
"I haven't a clue. Where do you suppose we should go?" He asks.
"We could take a stroll in Central Park." I suggest.
"I haven't an idea what that is, but sure. Anything to get me off this death vehicle."
I laugh and change the direction I'm going. Every time I turn down a different street, Loki holds on tighter to me as if he's going to fall off. He might, if he's not careful.

Eventually, we make it to Central Park. I park the vehicle, and hand Loki the keys once again. I take his hand and just start walking through Central Park. The sun has already began to set, so it was getting darker now.
It's silent for a few moments, and it's peaceful. All I could hear is, well I could hear a lot of things, but my mind focus's on the sound of the birds chirping. My head just drowns out the sound of the cars honking and the people talking. The silence makes it easier to think. I want to think about other things, but my mind immediately turns to either Erik or the person I heard.
"Whats the matter?" Loki asks, but I barely realize he's taking to me until he nudged my shoulder slightly.
"I'm just thinking." I tell him.
"About what?" He asks. He already knows the answer. I know he does, but he's trying to start a conversation.
"What I heard."
He nods, "You couldn't even recognize it slightly?"
Slightly, I could. I feel like I've heard it before. I remember hearing something similar. I can't remember from where or who, though.
"Slightly. I can't remember from where." I admit.
"I'm sure your bound to remember it eventually. Perhaps it'll come to you in a dream."
"Maybe." I mutter.
I could tell he's looking at me now, as I grow silent.
"That's not all, is it?" He asks, referring to what I'm thinking about.
"You're worried about Erik." He assumes, nodding.
"He's the only person that would try to get in my head."
"But you said the person sounded frightened, did you not? What reason would he be afraid?"
I shrug, "That makes it more confusing. If it's not him, who is it?"
He looks confused too. I don't know anybody else that could get into peoples heads like that. The person was a guy, though. I could tell that. The voice wasn't feminine.
"Only time could tell." Loki says. There was no better response than that. There couldn't be. I don't know who it is and neither would he. He didn't even hear it.
"Now why else are you thinking of Erik?" Loki asks. I really couldn't tell if he's reading my mind or not.
"I talked to him earlier today." I admit.
"About what?"
I shrug, "I asked him why he changed one day out of the blue," Loki nods, "He was a good father to me and Sam. He cared about us."

Flashback...
"Come on, kiddos. That's enough chaos for one day." My father says, carrying Sam on his shoulders. Mama opens the door to let us inside. After the zoo incident today, Sam's deathly afraid of snakes. He has barely spoken since we left the zoo.
"Can we visit the zoo again, papa?" I ask. I liked visiting the zoo. Sam, however, didn't.
"We'll have to see," he smiles down at me, "Your brother is pretty mortified." He jokes.
"You could always bring me without Sam. He doesn't have to come!" I laugh.
"Hey!" Sam exclaims.
"What? It's not my fault you're too much of a baby." I joke.
"I'm not a baby," he pouts, "Am I?"
"What? Of course not, Sammy. You're a little man." Papa says. He looks down at me and shakes his head, no, making fun of Sam. He mouths, "He's a big baby," so Sam wouldn't hear him.
I giggle, and papa puts Sam down on the couch.
"You two should get ready for bed now." Mama smiles. Her voice had always been soft and smooth-spoken. It's calming.
"Now? Cant we watch a bit of television?" Sam begs.
Mama smiles, "The tv will be there tomorrow."
"Papa, tell her I can stay up a bit longer, please?" Sam asks.
Papa ruffles Sam's hair jokingly, "Sorry kiddo, it's your mother's rules."
"Why do you get to stay up late?" I ask.
"Because I'm an adult. Adults don't have a bedtime." Papa explains.
"I wish I was an adult." Sam pouts, getting off of the couch.
"Enjoy your youth buddy. Being an adult isn't all that." He chuckles, gently pushing him toward the bathroom.
"You too, Sarah," Papa smiles, "You're not an adult just yet."
...
I stare at the ceiling in my room. Well, me and Sam's room. We share one. I sit up, checking to see if he was asleep. It was dark in here, and there was only a small night light. He was fast asleep, and I couldn't fall asleep. No matter how long I closed my eyes, I was still awake.
I slowly push the covers off my body, and stand up. I creep past Sam's bed and to the door. The door was always slightly cracked open, so I didn't have to make much noise.
I open the door just enough so I could slide myself out of my room. Slowly, I creep down the stairs. Mama usually goes to sleep soon after we do, and papa stays up to watch television.
As I reach the bottom of the staircase, I could see papa watching television. I must've made a sound, or the floor boards creaked, because he turns his head to face me.
He jokingly looks shocked, and then waved to come and sit down.
"What are you doing up this late?" He asks, pulling me in for a hug on the couch.
"I couldn't fall asleep." I whisper.
"Is Sam snoring again?" He jokes.
I giggle quietly, "No, I just couldn't fall asleep."
He nods, "Hm. You're not afraid of snakes creeping up on you at night too, are ya?"
"Of course not, that's Sam's problem."
"You're right," he begins, taking a sip of his drink, "Your brother's a damn scaredy-cat, isn't he?" He chuckles. He is only four, and I'm eight.
"You said damn." I smile, giggling.
"Shh! You can't say that word." He chuckles, looking to make sure mama wasn't around to hear me say that.
"Why not?" I ask.
"That's a grown up word. Only grown ups can say that word."
"What about shit?"
"Who taught you that," he chuckles, trying not to be too loud, "It definitely wasn't me."
"I heard Granny saying it." I grin.
"Of course you did. Granny says a lot of grown up words when she's frustrated."
I nod. She says a lot of grown up words. Every time I see her, she says one at least three times. Never less.
"Back to your sleeping schedule, you've gotta get some rest kiddo. We don't want Sam thinking I favor you over him."
"Do you?"
"Shh, don't let him know." He puts a finger up to his lips.
"Can't I watch some television with you for a little while? I'll go to sleep right away when I have to!"
He tilts his head, and then considers it.
"Fine, but don't let mama know." He says, as I snuggle up to him, watching the television.