Force Majeure

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Summary: Vicious conflict and rabid argumentation was your standard method of operation with Loki. When you're placed on a mission together, your expectations are shattered and remolded into something far more dangerous than open conflict.

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The sounds of grating metal became warbling cries of emergency vehicles. Mutilated bodies littered the ground. Grotesque barriers between rescuers and their marks. You stood against Loki, betwixt the mayhem, your weapons hanging half-staff at your side. Grimy dregs of battle clamped to you, sticky and sour, melding with your sweat and blood.

A traffic light hung over you, spurting electricity as it swayed. Abandoned cars, some upright, others toppled over, encircled you. Making a cage around yourself and Loki. You didn't know whether it was for your protection or those unfortunately near you.

But, this was destined to happen regardless. The proximity didn't matter, you and Loki were close enough.

"You're insufferable," You kicked debris from your warpath. It flipped and impaled the asphalt as they collided, sending ragged cracks through the ground like lightning. A crouching civilian stumbled away, screaming as the shattering ground gained on her. "I could have died and it would have been your fault!"

Adrenaline throbbed in your ears. Shocks of energy spun through your veins like a drug. Recognizing the incoming altercation, your mind cleared along with the dust of war as if they were one and the same.

Loki stood on the other side of the intersection, his leather gear licked in dirt and blood, no different than your own. Your stomach churned at the realization he wasn't so different than yourself in that moment.

Wind blew hard enough to hear, whipping through the buildings surrounding you. Loki's hair caught blood dripping from his temple as it moved with the violent gusts.

What differentiated you from him in the eyes of the shell-shocked onlookers? Two horrifying figures, wielding gilt weapons and an obvious vendetta. To them, you were Loki's chipped mirror, a disjointed, but crystal reflection.

"My fault?" Loki met you in the middle of the road, pointing at your chest. "You should have pushed the thing away so it didn't come barreling at my face."

"If I pushed it away it would have hit Cap," You blinked the burning dust from your eyes. "It was a split-second decision."

"So you settle for it hitting me?" Loki threw his arms wide, looking side to side for someone present to justify his opinion. The timid crowd looked away, holding themselves or loved ones. You smiled sadly at a mother clutching her daughter, tears dripping down her face. Swallowing back a sob at the sight of the dirty, but intact family, you wheeled on Loki, reflecting the hurt through anger.

"Clearly I did!" You yelled as if it were obvious. "Did we not just see the same thing?"

"If you'd chosen more wisely, it wouldn't have come after you when it was done harassing me," Loki's voice echoed across the skyscrapers. "All you did was make it angrier."

Cracked windows dotted the buildings, some salvageable, others shattered beyond repair. Screaming citizens waved, alerting the swarming first responders of their presence. You looked away for one moment and Loki was in your face, chest heaving as he stared down at you.

"Take a step back," You hissed, putting your palms to his chest. Refusing to stumble back in a show weakness, even as every nerve urged you to, you grabbed his gear and held strong as he closed in.

"No." Loki gripped your shoulders, digging his fingers deep.

Words slipped away. Red cut your vision as you stared in defiance. Loki's strained breath was warm against your skin that burned with infection. You had yet to identify the inflicting wound.

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