Not Who I Thought He Was

Chapter 3

"I'm sorry," Loki whispers breathlessly. He crawls backwards, his gaze never leaving the being in front of him. He doesn't know why he bothers. He's merely delaying the inevitable, and they both know it.

"Poor Loki," the Other drawls, following Loki's every panicked step with ease. "Nowhere left to run; nobody left to hide behind. You're all..." He stomps on Loki's arm, crushing it into the ground. "Alone."

Loki cries out in pain, throwing his head back involuntarily. "I'm sorry," he whispers. "I'm so, so sorry. Please don't hurt me."

"Oh, I won't hurt you," the Other says. "I cannot say the same for Thanos."

Loki bolts upright in bed and sucks in a sharp breath. He slaps a hand over his heart, and it pounds against his chest with rapid, deafening thuds.

"Just a dream," Loki whispers. It was just a dream.

He tries to take a deep, calming breath, but when he lets it out, it comes out a sob. He reaches for his pillow and hugs it to his chest, burying his face in it to silence himself. The Bartons didn't know just how damaged a man they were letting in their house when Clint gave him the invitation. He doesn't want to bother them with an answer they never wanted.

Loki closes his eyes and a tear slips down his face, making a home atop the pillow in his arms. He chokes out another sob, but even muffled by the pillow, it seems to ring out in the silence of his room. He squeezes his eyes shut tighter, giving his tears no room to fall. It doesn't help. His eyes flutter open just slightly with his next sob, and the tears waste no time in coming out.

Why now? Why here, in the comfort of the Bartons' house? This was supposed to be a good night. This was supposed to be his one night of reprieve, where the monsters couldn't catch up with him. All he wanted was one night of peace; just one night to pretend he's not the broken shell of a god he once was. The world couldn't even afford him that.

Knock knock.

Before Loki can even process that, his door cracks open. Loki instinctively wipes his eyes with the back of his hand. Between the darkness of the room and the tears filling his eyes, he can't make out the face poking in until he hears the quiet voice coming from it.

"Loki?" Lila asks quietly. "Are you okay?"

Loki sniffles and forces himself to nod. "I'm fine," he says, his voice barely a whisper. Any louder and he knows it would break.

Lila just looks at him for a few seconds, then quietly closes the door.

Loki takes a deep breath, doing his best to calm him down. It helps a little. He lets go of his pillow, and his hands shake in front of him. He carefully plants them on the mattress and pushes himself back until he's leaning against the wall. He wraps his arms around the pillow again, but this time, he lets his head fall back. He closes his eyes, letting another tear fall. He doesn't care anymore. He just doesn't care.

The door opens again, and he looks up to see that Lila has returned. She slowly walks up to him, and Loki puts his pillow aside and crosses his legs on the bed in front of him. As she comes closer, he can faintly make out a shadow in her hands, though he can't tell exactly what it is.

"Are you sad?" Lila asks quietly.

Loki hesitates, but, unfortunately, there doesn't seem to be a point in lying, so he gives a small nod. "A little bit."

"You know what always helps me when I'm sad?" she asks.

"Hm?" Loki hums.

"Mr. Snuffles." She holds out the object in her arms, and Loki takes it cautiously. It's a stuffed bear, he realizes, and a fairly decent sized one at that. "I got him when I was really little and he always makes me feel better."