Illusions | Loki & Jane

20. The Bastard Son

The desert was dry and hot, nevertheless he was alone there. He needed air, a space where he could be without a human soul. When Loki felt the sand under his shoes and found that nobody was around, he let his feelings go. The rage and grief, which had broadened in his mind were now visible. The tears were running down his face and the scream, he let out of his lungs was so profoundly that one could hear the sorrow out of it. The cry echoed through the desert and eventually faded. He sunk on the floor exhausted and unsatisfied. 

How could this have happened? How on earth had Thor managed to meet Jane? Had his father sent him to New Mexico on purpose or was this all a horrible, strange coincidence? He had to ask the Allfather. But how? He was fast asleep, not reacting to anything. However his mother had told him that he could hear everything. Maybe the Demigod could create a connection between their minds, so they could talk. He had to try.

Determined, the black-haired man rose from the sand and gazed up at the vast expanse of sky. "Heimdall, if you please..." The words barely escaped his lips, and before he could finish, an enormous, kaleidoscopic beam of light enveloped him. In an instant, he vanished, leaving behind only a circle of markings in the sand—an imprint of his presence, now just a memory in the desolate landscape.
_______

"What was that about yesterday evening?" Jane leaned closer to Darcy, her voice a whisper so that the two men in the kitchen, busy preparing coffee and breakfast, wouldn't overhear.

"What do you mean?" Darcy replied listlessly, propping her head up with her hands.

"Yesterday," Jane reiterated. "When you came to Isabela's Diner and made a scene."

"I did what?" Darcy asked, confusion etched across her face.

"You interrupted my date with Thor, being all rude."

"Really? I can't remember. I might have had a glass or two—or maybe a whole bottle—too much wine the other night." She began to massage her temples, a grimace of pain evident on her features. Erik chuckled lightly at the sight of her hungover state. Darcy suddenly stopped her circular motions and frowned, glancing at Jane with newfound curiosity. "Wait. You had a date?"

Her voice was a little too loud, causing Thor to grin at the question.

Jane ignored the question "We're not getting anywhere if one of my colleagues drinks too much every other day," she sighed, a hint of annoyance creeping into her tone.

Thor laughed heartily. "Why not? I do it all the time; it releases the spirit!"

"Depends on what spirit," Darcy groaned, laying her head on the table.

"So you're not worried about me hanging out with Thor?" Jane leaned in, whispering again.

"No, on the contrary, I think he's good for you. Even though he's a wacko, he helps you get out more often, be less compulsive, and more human."

Jane shot a resentful look at her friend. "Excuse me. I am not compulsive."

"Uhm..." Darcy tapped her chin thoughtfully, her eyes drifting toward the ceiling as if deep in contemplation. "Yes, you are." She nodded affirmatively.

Jane groaned, feeling a little offended. Was she really such a wet blanket? She had thrown herself into her work lately, using it as a distraction from thoughts of John. Maybe Darcy was right; perhaps she should allow herself to experience more, like her day with Thor. She had genuinely enjoyed it. Before heading to the diner—where Thor had replaced a mug he had accidentally broken— they had visited the zoo. Jane had been pleasantly surprised to discover a zoo in the area; it was unexpected.

Thor had made fun of nearly every animal they encountered, regaling her with tales of eight-legged horses and other fantastical creatures. He was a bit eccentric, but he was an engaging companion. She found herself sharing stories from her life, and he listened intently, laughing at her humorous anecdotes and responding seriously to the more somber moments. He had also told her about his home, Asgard, and the Frost Giants he had battled just before being banished by his father, Odin. While it all sounded fanciful and strange, she enjoyed listening to him. There was something about him that inspired trust, despite the nagging voice in her mind that suggested he might need professional help.