In Between The Lines Of Vice

Chapter 9: Looking Out For A Hero

Two weeks later.

"I don't understand." He furrowed his brows. It made absolutely no sense. None. Zip. Nada. Zilch.

The other mans lips quirked upward, sharing a quick moment of amusement with himself and himself alone. 

"Nothing you said made any sense, you are crazy." That seemed to amuse the other man even more, which made for an infuriating burn in his chest.

Then the other man spoke, voice smooth and words like acid, but like arsenic which was tasteless, colorless. Words that would kill you without a sign and with no mercy. "I have a feeling that you don't have room to talk in calling me crazy."

"Do you even know how many people you killed with your little rampage all over the city? And what? You plead that you were being controlled?" Loki's nostrils flared, which gave him more satisfaction then he was hoping for. "I'm sorry Mr. Malfoy, that Voldemort's whims were too strong."

It gave him even more satisfaction when Loki gave him a confused expression. He didn't know many pop culture references himself, but he was pretty sure Harry Potter was universal by now.

"I have no idea what you speak of, but I can tell you everything I spoke of was the truth. I was controlled by the Mad Titan with the mind stone's corruption. Now that my brother and his merry band of costumed glory seekers have the scepter, I am no longer under it's influence. Now that my brother thinks I am dead, no longer am I bound by any sort of man or stone."

"You destroyed the city, invaded aliens and killed hundreds, if not thousands, of people," He gritted his teeth for a moment before he yelled to loudly and caused them to be kicked out of the diner. "And for some goddamn reason my mother doesn't remember who I am."

Loki shifted in his seat. Good.

"She was too vulnerable, the Mad Titan has allies who can sift through memories and destroy everything you hold dear. That was for your safety along with your mothers. I did what I had to, to keep you safe." Loki trailed off.

Percy's eyebrows rose. He was still angry. He burned with it. A constant tug in his gut that made it feel like everything was wrong. Like he had stepped into an alternate reality where he was sitting in a café with a Norse god who was begging for his forgiveness for a reason which was still very unclear. Though, not much had changed, the only thing was that it was Norse this time.

"Please then, tell me why protecting me was so important in your impaired, mind controlled state where you can conveniently no longer be held against for your actions. Please I'd like to know." He practically growled.

Acting particularly ungodly, he slumped in his seat and taken a large gulp of the ice water placed on table. A bead of condensation traveled down the glass cup, his eyes following it's movement. Loki set the glass and avoided Percy's prying eyes.

"It's not important." Percy's frowned deepened.

"Like hell it's not important. It's the most important part of this entire conversation. How the hell you know who I am, why you care, and who the hell you think you are budging into my pitiful burnout life."  In all honesty, he had had enough of the gods meddling with his life before he even took a step into camp.

He chuckled, which was sort of unsettling on his face, like he didn't know any form of laughter other than snorting or sinister grins. "You are not a burnout, Perseus Jackson."

Percy leaned forward, bracing his elbows on the table. "If I'm not a burnout, a loser, than what am I? I peaked in my teens, it was shit then and it only went downhill. I certainly not important enough to save, not anymore."