"And how do you know I won't just kill you?" He asked.
"Because you need me. Without my survival skills and knowledge, you won't last a week in the Alaskan Bush. Once summer rolls around we can retrieve your precious stone and I'll let you leave, a...
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"Question."
"Shoot."
"Is the reason you hate being offered help because you're scared of relying on somebody else?"
I set my axe on the ground, leaning on the handle like a cane, and pondered Loki's question. It's been a week since I kicked the Mind Stone out of his brain and I'd be lying if I said the difference wasn't jaw dropping.
Before, during the moments when he was in control he was still constantly struggling on the inside, and it showed. He fought the Mind Stone all hours of the day, and all through the night.
The best I can try to understand it, having a foreign presence in your brain that you're continuously fighting must've been similar to having oral surgery. Any other surgery or injury you can take pain pills, wrap it up tightly, and forget about it. But a wound in the mouth can't simply be forgotten. It's always there, always irritating.
I'm surprised Loki didn't snap like a twig ages ago.
Oh yeah, Loki! I had gotten so caught up in my own thoughts that I forgot about his question.
"Maybe." I said, shrugging my shoulders. Although Loki had me figured out surprisingly well, he was wrong about this particular incident. The reason I insisted on chopping the wood was sitting right under the chopping block in the form of a glowing blue block. I managed to direct the question away from the issue however, and asked, "Is the reason you tried to take over earth because you have low self-esteem because of your dad and you wanted to prove yourself to the universe?"
Loki, clearly frustrated by my question, rolled his eyes and returned my answer of "maybe." He then turned away, and gazed out over the frozen tundra, probably contemplating what I said. He's definitely an internal processor and spends a lot of time just sitting and thinking. Some would call it brooding but considering I'm the same way, I can't really poke fun.
I took up my ax again and continued to swing it up and over my head in an arch, ending perfectly at the log I was breaking up.
'Shplot!'
The now two pieces of wood flew apart and landed on opposite sides of the chopping block. I picked them up, placed them on the stack, and grabbed another piece. Loki hadn't moved since I started and I couldn't help but think it might've had something to do with my words.
"Look, Loki- I'm sorry. That was honestly rude. I sometimes forget the laws of social interaction."
Loki turned back to me, as if to interject, his previous appearance of frustration gone, and said, "No. There's no need to apologize. I think it might be true." But before I could recover my shock of Loki actually verbally admitting that I may have been right, he changed the course of conversation. "What was your life like before Hydra?"
I, once again, paused what I was doing at his question, baffled as to where it came from. "Um," I shrugged. "I don't remember all that much. Why do you ask?"
