Gwendolyn Porter (Avengers Fanfiction)

Chapter Six: Destructive

The memory of my mother has brought back a lot of bad thoughts. Destructive thoughts.

I can see her in my mind, as if she was laying on the floor. I shake my head, trying my best to wipe her away. But I never will be able to.

Loki continues to stare at me but doesn't ask for any more information.

That much I'm grateful for.

I ask him for water and he gets me some. Drinking a lot of water is needed for hangovers.

It's been a long time since I sunk this low into memories of my mom. The last time I thought about her this much was the last time I got drunk. Ironic, isn't it. The guilt of her being an alcoholic and ending her own life made me want to numb my pain in her same poison.

I let out a shaking breath and hate the fact it gives off my feelings. I put down the now empty glass and look up at Loki.

He's took to glaring at the ground beside him, showing off his jawline and cheekbones.

I smile the smallest and most innocent smile I've ever had. Sure, maybe I've got a crush, but it won't go anywhere so why should I pursue it.

I try to think of something else.

His voice gives me something to focus on. "I've dealt with drunken friends before," Loki says, sounding quiet and reflective, "nothing as personal as what you've gone through I imagine."

"It's not a great experience," I add.

He looks up at me and smiles slightly. "It's not."

I nod and look away.

"You should rest," he says.

"I'm pretty well rested, Loki. I missed an entire day," I reply.

"Still."

"No, I think I should get going."

"It's late."

"I'll be fine," I say, making a little too harshly.

He shuts up, his mouth closing with a snap. I see it happen before my eyes, he closes off, his walls building back up. He's locked himself back into his turtle shell again and all I can see is the cold outer shell of a man who's been hurt too many times.

"Loki-"

"You're right, you'll be fine," he says, standing up and leaving the kitchen.

"Wait, Loki!" I get up and follow him. I want to go back, show me that vulnerable smile again.

"Goodbye Gwendolyn," he says, picking up his tools.

"You can't just shut down like that because I said I should leave," I tell him.

"Goodbye, Gwendolyn," he repeats.

"I'm not leaving yet," I snap.

He turns around and glares at me. "You should be, get out."

"Seriously?! You're mad at me for wanting to go?! Usually you're mad I want to stay!"

He does nothing but stare and look down at me like I've done something against him. Which I haven't, he shouldn't be so quick to shut down.

"Get out," he says quietly.

"I'm not! I can help you with your machine thing."

"No you aren't!" He yells, turning towards me with his hands glowing green. He reaches towards me but I grab his wrist.

"You don't want to fight me," I seethe.

"Then get out," he returns.

Nothing makes me break in particular, just knowing he will never view me as anything other than what I am.