Loki's fall (sequel to loss and Loki)

Far Too Young For Words Like That

No... no no she had to be here. This was the place. This was where Heimdall had told me she would be. This very establishment. This very room.

I ran an anxiously shaking hand through my hair and swallowed forcibly as a sour taste flooded my mouth and I began to feel myself giving in to the mania that had gripped me, tearing all my foundations down beneath my fractured sanity.

I spun around, searching for a clue, any clue as to where she might be, feeling my heart rate steadily incline as I swallowed forcibly and kneaded the scar on my palm. I cursed under my breath and twisted around again, stopping suddenly when my eyes fell on a strange marking in the opposite wall. It was a large crack that ran smoothly up the wall and over down in the shape of a...of a door...

Without wasting another second I darted towards it placing my hands flat against the cool wall and applying a pressure to each side, testing. A slight sigh of relief left me when I heard a mechanical click and the door shifted forward. I pushed harder and it swung all the way out, revealing another room filled with electronic equipment scattered about the place.

There was a constant beep coming from somewhere and as I scanned my eyes around the room I saw a large intimidating looking machine that was flashing red and had wires trailing out of it that hooked up to a small figure chained to the wall that I recognised immediately...

"Ora." I breathed, unsure, and took an unsteady step forward, reminding myself of what Heimdall had said over and over again in my head so I could stop myself from running up to her and pulling her into my arms, holding her tightly so she could never be taken from me again. My hand twitched by my side with the need to feel her against me but I swallowed and shook it off, now stopping a few feet away from her.

"Ora." I repeated louder, and this time she slowly lifted her head, wincing a little like it caused her a hell of a lot of pain to do so. But her eyes found mine through the glazed numbness and a flash of recognition stained her eyes as she let out a ragged breath.

I let my gaze hover over every wound they'd left on her delicate features, beginning to shake with anger as I saw the crushed bridge of her nose and the blood that stained her perfect poisoned lips, the dark bruises around her eyes and at her jaw that had me curling my hand into a fist as I clenched my jaw tightly and tried to keep thoughts of chaos and ruin at bay.

Her mouth opened and closed slightly as she looked at me, like she was trying to say something but stopped herself. Then her eyes flitted to the ground and an unexpected sound tumbled from her lips. She was laughing, quietly and weakly, her pitiful grin never reaching her eyes as her snicker echoed around the room and I swallowed hard.

"Just when I thought I could catch myself a break-" she croaked, wincing as she pulled her head up again and fixed me with a glare that was so full of hatred and despair that my eyebrows twitched up as my eyes widened with the sudden agonising pain that had wrapped its barbed wire bonds around my chest, embedding the deepest spike right in between my lungs. I fought for a breath as I took a step forward and she snapped her head to the side before continuing.

"My mind decides to bring you back to fuck with my heavily waning sanity." She spat harshly, but her tone cracked with a despair that rang out over the blatant resentment that saturated the fire behind her gaze. Her mouth twisted down in a grimace of loathing. But not one aimed at me, rather aimed at herself, her mind, her own subconscious.

I took a deep breath and flexed my hands after they'd been painfully curled into tight fists for so long it hurt to extend my fingers again. I was struck with a slow realisation as I connected the big machine to the patches against her temple that were hooked up to it.