Packless Monsters

Chapter 44

You don't know how long you were in the trance of the song and the pack magic. How long you sat singing on the cold tiled floor of your bathroom. How long you held Loki's hand. How long you sang without pause.

There were voices behind you.

You ignored them.

A hand shook your shoulders.

You ignored it too.

All that mattered was the song and the singing.

A sigh of exasperation.

A hand clamped over your mouth, an arm around your waist, pinning your arms to your sides. Your concentration snapped, the pack magic vanished. You made a protesting noise and struggled against the person holding you securely. It wasn't a human. You could have broken a human's grip. You couldn't break free and you panicked for a moment.

"I have not hear such a lovely rendition of The Omega's Lament in centuries," Fenrir told you gently. He was the one holding you. You relaxed a little, at least no longer panicking. Fenrir was here. He could help. "It's time to let go now," he told you softly. "You have done everything you could. It is time to let go." Rachel knelt in front of you while Fenrir held you firmly, though he removed his hand from your mouth. It was Rachel who pried your fingers off of Loki's cold, unmoving hand. "Time to let go, little Omega," Fenrir's voice was still gentle and kind, too kind. "You've been through enough today." He stood, bringing you with him, both of his arms around your waist. He wisely didn't trust you to be cooperative.

"Rachel, Miss Romanoff, would you please take Y/N and get her fixed up?" Fenrir asked kindly as he passed you to Rachel. Her arms wrapped around you, steadying you and keeping you on your feet. "You should have have those wounds tended hours ago," Fenrir reminded you firmly before you could protest. Except you were needed here. You were too dazed and exhausted from playing with so much pack magic to argue, though. You weren't a mage and while pack magic wasn't magic in the same way Loki's Seidr was, it was still exhausting to channel like you had been.

You still turned, though Rachel tried to stop you. "Loki!" you croaked, your voice was no more than a hoarse whisper after singing for so long without pause. Loki was in the tub still, unmoving. You reached a hand for him. You couldn't even tell if he was breathing.

"You've done all you can," Rachel told you just as gently, as if afraid of breaking you with bad news. "Grandfather will stay with him. Come on. You're still bleeding and drenched in blood." Between Rachel and Nat, they got you up to Nat's room and in the hot bath waiting there. You didn't even care that they were helping you bathe. That should have upset you.

They didn't understand why you were crying. In your befuddled haze, the only answer you could give them when they asked was "Loki,"

Why didn't they understand?

Why were they surprised that you were crying over him?

Rachel kept insisting that you had done everything you could. That Fenrir was with him. "She's not thinking clearly," she told Nat sadly. They both seemed heartbroken at your state. "I bet she was channeling pack magic since she spoke with Fenrir at noon. She should have been stopped hoursago. It's no wonder she's in this condition, poor puppy,"

Nat sighed in exasperation the next time you whined, though. You weren't being a very cooperative patient. "Yes. We know you're worried about Loki. The sooner you behave and stop being such an annoying puppy and let us help you get cleaned up and bandaged, the sooner you can go check on him," her voice was exasperated, out of patience. She never called you an annoying puppy.