Loki Misses the Asgardian Prison System

Chapter 199

Bucky can't sleep.

He tried. He really, really tried. He tried sleeping with his pillow, without his pillow, upside-down on the bed so his head was to the door. He's even tried sleeping on the floor. He's not getting anywhere.

It's been hours since he went to bed, and, though he hates to do it, he thinks it's about time he gives up. He sits up with a groan and rubs his hands down his face, then through his hair to brush it out of the way. He grabs his phone to check the time. Someone should be up in a few hours – Steve, at least, should be; maybe Bucky will join him on his run in the morning, just to keep himself awake.

Until then, he's getting up. Sitting in the dark like this is going to be the death of him. He needs to go somewhere where there's something. He'll go watch TV or he'll figure out where the training room is or something.

But first: coffee.

He makes his way through the pitch-black hall, shuffling his feet against the floor so he doesn't accidentally step on his cat in the process – something he's learned from experience; having a small, fragile animal at your feet while you walk is terrifying.

He's nearing the kitchen when he first hears it: a quiet thudding, almost a tapping sound. He pauses, straining to hear just what it is. In Romania, he might have assumed it was Alpine, as he does with most noises when he's in bed, but he can feet his cat brushing up against his legs, so it can't be her. Maybe it's Loki's cat? He's not sure what a cat would be doing that would make this noise, though.

He takes a cautious step forward, and another, and another. He's sure it's just someone he lives with. There are a lot of those people now – and another animal, too. There are plenty of explanations for this repetitive thumping sound he's hearing; explanations that don't have to worry him at all. And yet, it does worry him, which is ridiculous, but he can't help it. He's been on the run for so long. He's been hiding for so long. There are still people out there who want to find him – to kill him, or worse, to take him back and use him as a weapon. What if they've found him? What if they're waiting for him?

And then he hears the voice, that soft singing in the other room, and he feels himself relax a little bit. There's nobody here to hunt him down. It's just Loki, singing to himself in the kitchen. That's fine. He's okay with that. Honestly, if he has to talk to somebody as he's making himself a coffee in the dead of night, he's kind of glad it's him.

Bucky braces himself for a conversation as he steps into the room, but Loki's oblivious to his presence. His back is to the doorway, and with the earbuds in his ears, he can't hear a thing that's happening around him.

"I guess we fell apart in the usual way," Loki sings along quietly, tapping his fingers against the table to the beat, "and the story's got dust on every page."

If it had been anybody else, Bucky probably would have gone back to his room and tried to stay out of the way, but he knows Loki. He's talked to him quite a few times over the last few years. He's not sure he'd quite call them friends, but he's definitely the closest thing to a friend he has. So when Loki takes a singing break to have a sip of coffee, Bucky cuts in.

"What're you listening to?" he asks, raising his voice to make sure he's heard over the sound of the music.

Loki pulls out an earbud and looks over his shoulder, and when he sees Bucky, he turns his chair to face him. "You're up late – or early, I suppose."

Bucky shrugs. "Couldn't sleep."

"Anxious about tomorrow?" Loki guesses.

Anxious about everything, really. Anxious that the United Nations will still want to hold him accountable for the crime he didn't commit; anxious that he'll be held accountable for the crimes he didn't want to commit; anxious that he'll be given clemency and allowed to stay here and he'll be miserable. He'll be miserable no matter what happens, he thinks, which is the worst part. It doesn't matter what happens tomorrow. It's not going to work out in his favor.