A Different Outcome

Chapter Twenty: Longing

Loki POV

Birds are chirping when I wake up. I hear my phone going off, and I see no texts from Clara. The sunlight is bright, and I see the leaves turning red, a sign of fall to come.

And yet...I feel awful.

I gently set Hela on the chair, and then conjure a cradle, made out of ebony, complete with green silk cushions. I set her down on her back inside. I take a deep breath.

And then I put a hole in the wall.

Breathing harshly, I clench my fists, suddenly fighting white hot rage. I throw my window open, and then remember I'm a sorcerer. With a flex of my hands, I've teleported down to the street.

I run and run and run, not caring I'm barefoot, not caring that glass and dirt and rat shit are on my skin now, or even that my hair is flying like a curly mane around my head.

I finally stop when I get winded. Bending over, I look around. When I can't decipher where I am, I pop back into my bedroom. It's then I see the blood leaking from the soles of my feet, and I scream in unbridled rage.

And then, all at once, I'm so exhausted. Breathing nearly hurts. My body weighs a thousand tons. And I want to sleep, sleep forever. I'm so fucking pathetic.

I flop onto my bed, my feet still bleeding.

I have no idea how long I lay there, or if I'm even alive. But I eventually hear my door open, and Thor says something about breakfast. I ignore him, unable to move.

My shoulder is shaken. "Loki, you're scaring me."

And just like that, I can move again. The rage returns, and it actually hurts. I say through clenched teeth, "Get. Out."

Thor scrambles away, but it's a struggle with his crutches. The sight infuriates me more, until I want to tear my skin off.

My door closes, and I close my eyes, searching in my void pocket for those vials. To my luck, I come up with three of them. In a dizzy, angry haste, I swallow them all.

As I wait for the drugs to hit me, I angrily pace, mumbling to myself. When I feel the hallmark dizziness and the floor becomes the ceiling, I feel myself land on all fours, my head falling. My elbows give out, and I'm flat on my stomach, lying on something soft.

My head fills with clouds. I'm lighter than a feather. At some point, I cough something up and it's hard to breathe. But it fades, just like I do, right into the floor.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When I begin to surface again, I smell vomit.

I'm lying on the floor.

I'm alone.

My mind crashes down from the high. I feel myself shaking. I moan and manage to prop myself on my elbows. When I can sustain that, I sit up fully. Then, I get to my feet.

My phone is going off. I stumble to my bed, shaking uncontrollably as I press the green button. I hold the phone to my ear.

"Did your phone die again? Is it more weird frost giant shit? Anthony said he had a bad feeling, and that we should check up on you. Honestly he gets anxious, it's a whole thing, but yeah. Anyway. So, why'd you ghost us?"

I see my pills on my night stand. I reach for them, but my fingers can't close around the orange plastic bottles. I am truly weak.

"Not like we're mad. It's just not like you. Ever since you got that phone, it's like, ding ding ding every minute! So many notifications! Again, not that we mind. It's kinda cute, really, how you.... are you even there?"