Yep, definitely Loki's kid.

Chapter 20: Lulla?

Finnley's Pov:

I don't know how much time has passed.

It could have been minutes or it could have been hours, but I don't know.

I have been sitting, curled into myself with my blood-stained hands clutching my knees, trying to make myself as small as possible this whole time, but for how long that was I could not guess. My panic never ceases or quiets for even a moment.

I don't even know where I am. I didn't have a destination in mind when I started running and I didn't pay attention to where I was running, only the fact that I was running at all.

I can still hear the hecticness and busyness of New York on the other side of the crumbling graffiti-covered walls that I find myself in but I don't pay much mind to them. The thoughts screaming in my head are way too loud to allow me to be aware of anything else.

Occasionally the sound of a loud car horn, drunken voices, or police sirens would break through the deafening screaming in my head, but it would quickly pass, the thoughts in my head and my panicked breathing drowning them out.

There was even one moment that for a split second I swear that I heard the unmistakable sound of Iron Man's repulsor jets just outside of the building, but once again that thought was quickly pushed to the side.

For what felt like hours, I sat there, trapped in my own mind, playing through the entire day over and over. I even started going back and playing out many other days. I played out years in my head, always asking the same question, what went wrong?

Everything in my life seems to fall apart, it is inevitable, so why am I always holding on to everything so tightly if I know that it will just eventually be torn away from me?

I try to find a reason for everything that has happened to me, which is a hard thing to place on one thing. But eventually, I settle on something.

It all started when my parents didn't want me.

They, whoever they are, left me to face all of this alone.

That is what started it, but I suppose that I can't really blame them. They were not the ones that actually made my life shit, they were just the ones that didn't want to put up with my shit either.

No, who actually made my life shit was myself. I'm the one that allowed myself to get pushed around, I'm the one that didn't stand up for myself, I'm the one that wasn't there when others needed me, I'm the one that was selfish, and I'm the one that let all of this happen. And now, the situation that I find myself in now, is once again thanks to me.

My life will never be the same, and I know that, yet the only thing that I really find myself worrying about is the kids, still too self-sacrificing for my own good.

I clutch my head in my hands and pull my legs closer to myself; it is freezing and my hyperventilating and panic do not help soothe that.  I am so deep within my panic at this point that I don't even register the frost growing around me or the drop in temperature in the air surrounding me, and I especially do not notice the blue tint that my skin has taken once again.

When I finally shift my body slightly, trying to curl into myself even more, I freeze when I feel my hand brush over the ice coating the ground and walls around me. I finally open my eyes, and when I do my breathing increases impossibly more as my eyes land on my blue hand against the frost that I know was not there before.

I quickly place both my hands out in front of me and pull my sleeves up to follow the blue that covers every inch of my arms. I bring my hands to my face and feel the raised markings that also littered my arms and hands on my face as well.