Heart to Heart(Peter and Loki)

Scared Long Enough(One-shot)

Scared Long Enough

"Don't you ever get scared?"

That was what a doe-eyed, curly-haired, bright-spirited boy had asked him once. His gaze held warmth and a sense of overpowering curiosity.

The question had startled him, and from his place in the kitchen, next to Thor, in the presence of the Avengers, he stared blankly at the young mortal.

Thanos had scarred them all, choked and strangled with their hope, played around with them like pawns.

But he was gone now. He was dead now. The black-haired, acid-green-eyed mischievous prince didn't need to worry, so he wouldn't worry, period.

"No," he had said, the memory of  the titan clear as the flames that had eaten and lapped at the once brilliant Asgard. And just like that, the fixed gazes that were piercing through him like knifes were gone: all except Thor's.

Loki could feel the blonde's hand rest on his shoulder, and he had half-heartedly glared at the Thunder God.

He didn't ever get scared.

•>>>>

Loki couldn't see.

The God whirled around in the darkness, brows scrunched together in annoying confusion. His eyes itched. Why did they itch? Why wouldn't whatever the hell was in his eye going  a w a y?

Wherever he blindly stumbled no walls or surfaces were found, sending him into a frantic: trying to find a place to hold him up in his moment of pure defenselessness.

Distantly, something clawed and fluttered and stomped his heart, causing it to burst into hummingbird-winged beats, and suddenly he couldn't breathe.

It had started as skin brushing against his skin, but it had stroke like a viper, clenching and suffocating and crushing his windpipe.

And, oh  g o d, he couldn't  b r e a t h e.

Loki gasped and stuttered, choking, and kicked and fought and tried to resist the force killing him. S t r a n g l i n g  him.

Quickly, he felt faint and far away, tired, exhausted, l i m p.

And he woke up with a startled inhale.

A pause, and Loki shivered, reaching to brush his neck with the tips of his fingers.

He was fine: it was just a dream. The god sent a nervous lick to his chapped lips as he glanced around the darkened room, shady, but still able to spot the furniture and walls from his spot on his bed.

Still, his pulse raced, the pumping of his blood thumping in his eardrums- the rest of the team could probably hear him the way his heart thundered.

Loki sighed, not wanting to try to fall back asleep. Instead, he slipped off the bed, grimacing at the sticky sweat that stuck his clothes to his skin, and stumbled out of his room.

The halls were dark, too, but the God's eyes swiftly adjusted to the lack of light. After all, he grew up in the shadow of everyone else.

The darkness didn't scare him. Never has.

He stepped softly, soundlessly. Loki has had years to perfect his stalking: no one would hear him unless he wanted them to hear him.

Unless his heartbeat gave him away.

Loki stopped, freezing up as other footsteps tapped almost mutely, coming close towards the three-way hall the mischievous being was standing in.

The ravenette pressed against the wall as the other mysterious person came closer, and he slipped the dagger from his sleeve up to his tense figures.