Life with Loki - short stories

Terms & Conditions - II

'I am not the only traveler, who has not repaid his debt. I've been searching for a trail to follow again, take me back to the night we met'.

The first week, he remained quiet. Still, in a disbelief at what he had heard. Your heavy wounded sobs that ripped their way from your throat, from your heart. Unbeknown to you, your cries had broken him. By the third week, he was angry. Angry at you. Angry at himself for not speaking his truth sooner. Angry at himself for not immediately ceasing those horrid thoughts you thought of yourself. The thoughts of you, that you believed belonged to him. They had been so dreadfully, so terribly, wrong. He could not comprehend how you could let those poisoned thoughts roam freely within your beautiful mind.

By the sixth week, me was a mess. The regret ripped its way through his quarters. Wrecking havoc throughout his space, that reflected his insides. The utter chaos, the hellish turmoil that was drowning him from within. No one knew, until Thor did. He watched his brother sit in a lonely silence, which wasn't all too unfamiliar to see Loki keeping too himself, but there were no smart remarks, no venomous undertones, like there so often were.

When the third week had approached, the team were asking Thor what the hell was wrong with his brother, as Loki's temper blackened the air of the tower, of anyone who would even consider to cross his path. Thor asked, and was stabbed. So he kept a watchful, but distant eye upon his brother. His watched him, observing the emotional phases that the dark haired God was experiencing. Then at week seven, when he hadn't seen or heard from his brother for days, he opened his door. There he was, his face wet, eyes vacant. His knuckles bloody, his hair a mess. He was a wreck, as he sat upon the floor, slumped against the wall. Furniture laid around the room in pieces, resembling his mind, and his heart. Thor stared at the shell of the man that was his brother, for he had never seen Loki in this state of depression. When Thor managed to find the words to speak, Loki spoke of how this was his doing, his fault, and how he had lost you. Most likely, for good.

'And then I can tell myself, what the hell I'm suppose to do. And then I can tell myself, not to ride along with you'.

There is no point categorising your time. Since the moment you left with Bucky and Sam for eastern Europe, you were numb. There was no choice within you. The Solider and the Falcon thought not much of your change in demeanour, at first, but your behaviour soon grew reckless by the day. You were no pussycat on the field, but the two found themselves sharing side glance after side glance between each other, as your actions increased in thoughtlessness. When the three of you found the seconds of time or the reception, you would check in on messages from home. Bucky & Sam secretly asked your brother, Tony, if you were ok, if all was well. They shared their concerns of your hunger for chaos -how ironic- to which Tony replied that from the messages you had left him, you sounded fine? And that maybe it was the heat of the mission that had that rarked you up.

They silently watched, they silently worried. Were you purposely calling this upon yourself? Were you purposely putting yourself in harms way? They got their answer one day. The three of you were in the middle of a tense fist fight, trying to make your way out, when guns were pulled leaving no option but for the three of you to hide yourselves behind a shed like building. Before they realised it, you stepped out from behind the shed, walking a moderate pace, right through the gunfire, over to the Jeep that lead you to drive around and pick up Bucky and Sam, making your escape.