Nightmare

Begone, Th0t

"Must you take so long?" Loki demands as I limp over to where he's waiting for me.

"Well, I'm sorry I can't walk normally because of an ankle that got fucked up when I was little and a leg that you  stabbed," I scoff.

"That's why we're here, mortal," Loki retorts. "Give me your hand."

"Why?"

"Your incessant complaining about that hand is becoming unbearable," he says. "And I cannot risk my plans being known to the public."

"Okay, but I'm still going outside," I argue. "I left my dumbass crutch in the car."

"You mean this?" Loki produces my crutch out of nowhere.

"I didn't know you could do that." I say. They never had this in the movies. Although, I guess they didn't have a lot in the movies.

"I can do many things."

"We all can." I say.

He hands the crutch to me and I take it.

"Now take off the bandage and hold out your hand."

"Will it hurt?" I ask, even though I'm not seven anymore.

"A little," he says.

Then he waves his hand over it, and a green shimmer runs across the wound, sending a jolt of pain through my whole arm.

But when I look at it, I see no wound, only a scar. But it still burns like hell.

"Aren't you going to thank me?" Loki's velvety voice comes from twenty feet away--how the fuck did he get that far so fast?

"I was going to, until you asked that," I retort, and use the crutch to get back to my room.

I sit in my bed and watch conspiracy theories on YouTube because I have nothing better to do.

(+)

I lay down in my bed, closing my eyes and trying to sleep. I hate nightmares, but I'm also really fucking tired.

I'm just about to drift off when I hear a knock at my door.

I stumble out of bed and open the door.

It's Rowan. His eyes are pine green instead of Tesseract blue, a somewhat noticeable purple bruise on his forehead.

What's going on? Is the scepter's influence growing weak? Brand's eye are rarely blue, it didn't even work on me, and now Rowan's eyes are his normal eye color. I saw Cassian's eyes switch from blue to hazel once, and Soturi wasn't even under the influence in the first place.

I'm confused.

Then his eyes turn pine green again. "We have to get out of here."

"How are you out of the mind-control thing?" I ask.

"I don't know, but my head hurts."