Loki Oneshots

Run

There are many things Loki has done in his life. Many things he's done wrong. And he knew they'd catch up with him eventually.

He just hadn't thought they would so soon.

You and him were planning what to do when the inevitable would happen: you'd saved up money, quit your jobs, sold the majority of your furniture and started to pack and make travel arrangements.

Loki hated to do this, especially to someone as amazing as you. If life went his way, he would've left you much sooner so you wouldn't be involved. Or, even better, he would never have taken things to the next level with you at all. 

He'd tried to gently break it to you. He'd tried to tell you he was running away and that you had to stay behind for your own safety. But, you being you, wouldn't let him leave without you. And, him being him, gave in to your stubbornness much too quickly.

In all honesty though, he's rather glad you insist on following him to the edges of the Earth and further. In all the wrongness in his life, it seems you're the only thing that's right. If it weren't for you, he's not sure he could've made it this far.

You'd both planned to leave in a few days, the final preparations being made to fall off the grid and into a life of constant running.

"It's okay," You had told him, running a gentle hand across his face. "We'll find a safe place eventually. And even if we don't, at least we'll be together,"

Loki could hardly look at you after your understanding words, but when he finally did, the small, worried smile sprawled across your features almost killed him with guilt. How could he do this to you? Force you into a lose lose situation? Either you stay with him and end up running for the rest of your life, or you never see him again.

He wants you to be happy and have a choice, even if he's not there. And he knows that you staying with him will take everything from you. You've already sacrificed so much for him, so how could he ask you to lose anymore?

Yet, every time he would bring this up with you, you'd always answer the same:

"You are my everything, my love. As long as I don't lose you, I am happy,"

So the plans were made. And they were so close to being complete. Bags were half-packed, the house close to empty. Any devices had been disconnected from the mains and abandoned, the last traces of the two of you inhabiting this small living space slowly being wiped away.

Loki had one more day to watch your tense body as you sped around the place, ensuring you had everything before you left the following night.

However, as per usual, the plans you and him were so close to completing were foiled. They arrived without being noticed - the both of you too distracted to sense something was off - and attacked when they were least expected.

"Do you think we should sell this?" You ask Loki, pointing to the kettle. He cringes, thinking of all the tea he won't get to brew; all the tea he won't get to drink. "And before you say anything," You continue. "We'll find tea somewhere, love. It's not exactly hard to ge-"

There's a loud crash; Loki instantly moves to shield you as the door is blown off its hinges and smashes onto the kitchen floor in a mess of small wooden fragments. Daggers form in his hands as the intruders charge forwards, aiming to capture him and anyone involved with his 'scheming' dead or alive.

Blood is shed, the house: wrecked. Both you and Loki fight to keep your freedom - or at least, as much freedom as would be allowed in your current situation. More and more intruders barge into the house - much too many for two people to deal with on their own. 

Loki is - of course - considered as the main threat, and therefore is swamped with the most attackers. He's pushed further and further into the house; further and further away from you. Upon noticing the absence of you fighting by his side, he has a horrible realisation.

It trips up his heart, leaving it hanging by a singular, fraying thread. All he knows is he has to get back to you. He has to, for who knows what could happen otherwise? You are strong, and a remarkable fighter... yet you are just a mortal. Your strength has its limits, and though you've awed many by surpassing those limits time and time again, you can't do it every time.

Loki uses his newfound fear and anger of the situation to create a wave of magic so strong it knocks back the majority of the attackers. He pushes past the rest of them, sending daggers and bolts of acid green magic in the direction of anyone in his way.

But it seems his attempts are futile. For every attacker he shrugs off, they're replaced by at least two - he's struggling to shake them all.

A sudden soul-shattering scream from somewhere nearby slashes at the final string holding his heart, sending it plummeting into an abyss of fear and horror. The feelings well up inside him, overwhelming his senses as he calls out for you.

Through some miracle, Loki manages to drop all who were attacking him. He sprints through the open front door, yelling your name as if it'll magically bring you back to his side so you may run away together.

He watches through eyes slowly clouding over with tears as you're manhandled and dragged across the floor to a van. You fight against the iron grips of the attackers, unbothered - or perhaps unbeknownst - to the blood smeared across your face.

Loki yells once more, shrugging off the hands of people who try to grab him. Attention is brought to the God, and he thinks that perhaps it's the perfect time for you to free yourself.

But instead, you simply stop.

You stop fighting. Stop shouting. Instead, you murmur eight words meant only for his ears.

"Run," He hears you say. "Run and don't you dare look back."

Without thinking twice about it, he does. He runs as tears begin to overspill, trickling down his face and undoubtedly leaving blotchy red trails. His footsteps fall heavily on the ground, his breathing unnaturally quick. 

Loki keeps going - he keeps running until he's far away from the house, far away from the attackers, far away from... you. Eventually he can't move anymore and collapses on a park bench who knows where.

He's hungry, sweaty and exhausted; but most of all, his heart feels as if it's been dropped in poison. He just simply left you in the hands of those monsters. He left you to suffer on your own.

He left you behind.

And deep down he knows that your final words to him didn't just have one meaning.

Yes, you didn't want him to see you get thrown into the back of a van as if you were a ragdoll. Yes, you didn't want him to watch you get manhandled and hurt in the process.

But you also don't want him to look back on you. You don't want him to think about what was or what could have been. You don't want him to dwell on his mistakes and how he believes he led you into this. You don't want him to believe this is his fault.

You want him to forget about you so he can move on and potentially have the chance to be happy. And Loki knows this.

But how can he be happy when he's not with you?

He sits exhausted against the bench, the usually beautiful setting sun feeling as if it's taunting him. Fire-like rays of orange spread across the ground, the light making it look as if the trees are black with charcoal. 

Loki wonders if he should listen to you. If he should forget about you and move on; leave you with those horrid people. A very small part of him thinks this may be the best option... for him at least.

The rest of him knows he can't just leave you there. It could kill you. He also doesn't believe he can survive without the constant light you bring him. 

Shakily climbing to his feet, he begins work on a plan to rescue you and carry out the life you both used to wish you could have - a life where you don't have to run away. A life where you can be together without the constant fear.

Loki makes a quiet promise to himself, one he hopes he'll never break.

No more running.